


something in me knew it was real

by fools_mp3



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Slow Burn, fake engagement, loosely based off the proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19217431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fools_mp3/pseuds/fools_mp3
Summary: “You’re,” Jisung looks at them warily with a wave of his eyebrows. “You two, are getting married.”A deadpan.“I— uh. Yes?” Seongwoo squeaks out. He turns his head slowly, braving a look at Minhyun. Minhyun doesn’t even glance at him, his smile towards Jisung the biggest he’s ever seen Minhyun smile.“I—“ Jisung’s brow furrows. “Seongwoo… is your. Secretary.”“I prefer to be called Executive Assistant?”(Seongwoo and Minhyun get fake engaged.)





	1. won't you stay for a moment, so i can say...

**Author's Note:**

> hello! couple things: [south korean] citizenship is kind of really confusing and after taking one look at the amount of requirements and exceptions and what have you's of korean citizenship, i kind of just gave up...
> 
> i do know that it is super hard to get dual citizenship in korea (it's rare)  
> i am not sure if marrying someone automatically makes u a citizen (i am like pretty sure it doesn't, but for this story it does ok)  
> this was based off the proposal so we're going with that
> 
> with that being said, information regarding korean citizenship/dual citizenship might be (is probably) inaccurate, so take it with a grain of salt and enjoy it for the sake of this fic! 
> 
> see you on the flip side

Twenty-four year old Seongwoo's first ' _advice_ ' given to him at Cho & Park's Publishing had been of this:

 

"Good thing you wore a black-and-white suit today, man. The others weren't so lucky.”

 

_What?_

 

“What?"

 

The guy in front of him, (definitely younger, has to be, but he _did_ find him sitting in a cubicle with _Park Woojin, Editor_ attached to it) shrugs. He smiles at him, a welcoming smile, and a bit of a snaggletooth comes out. "Just saying, don't ever wear any other suit that's not white shirt, black tie, okay? Minhyun doesn't like it."

 

It's his first day as assistant of Hwang Minhyun's at the best publishing company in South Korea, and he showed up extra early (twenty minutes) in his best outfit, grin on his face. Ready for the new chapter in his life.

 

The position isn't great, but after switching from a Business major to Literature halfway through university, he doesn't expect much with his job offers (they weren't bad to be honest, but Ong Seongwoo is nothing but determined, so he rejects them all and opts to live with Jaehwan for a couple of months, browsing the job listings of the great _Cho & Park Publishing _instead). 

 

Not to mention that _Executive Assistant_ was the only job opening they had at Cho & Park for months. He sighs. He'll just have to climb the ladder then, didn't he?

  
Hwang Minhyun was already in his office, door closed, but when Seongwoo had gone to knock and kind of [lowkey] boast about how he was early, he saw that he was already speaking to someone and decided it better not to interrupt.  


That led him to sit shyly back at his desk, toying with his nameplate. A _nameplate._

 

He's made it, he thinks.

 

(He texts his group chat a picture of it, with the caption "I'm big time now, baby!!!!! A name plate!!!!!!”

Jaehwan quickly responds with a zoomed in screenshot of " _Executive Assistant"_ under his name, and says " _yeah you are.... LMAOOO_ ”.

Daniel and Sungwoon sends variations of " _LOL_ " and " _roasted... OTL”.)_

 

Seongwoo frowns. "What do you mean _'Minhyun doesn't like it?'_ Doesn't like what?"

 

Another figure pops up behind Woojin in front of his desk, so quickly, that Seongwoo almost jumps. "Doesn't like anything that's not a white shirt, black tie attire for his Assistants."

 

He has a smirk on his face, knowing that the reasoning is almost laughable. 

 

"Park Jihoon," the guy adds, holding his hand out. "And no, we're definitely not shitting you about that."

  


Seongwoo responds to the guys hand and shakes it, thoroughly surprised that despite Jihoon's bright and cute-like face, his grip was strong. "The recruitment guy never said anything about that when I got the job?"

 

Woojin shrugs. "It's not like it's a _requirement,_ per say. But let me just say that every assistant who's worn anything other -- Minhyun hasn't really taken a liking to."

 

"I..." Seongwoo says, trying to process the information. This Hwang Minhyun seems odd, he didn't realise different colored suits were such a scandal. "I, okay. Thanks for letting me know, then?"

 

Woojin shrugs. "No worries, man. Minhyun's pretty strict and he hasn't kept an assistant for more than four months at most. But you're handsome ( _Jihoon swats at his arm with a frown on his face, and that's how Seongwoo comes to know that they're dating)_ so I hope you're able to stick around."

 

" _Four months?_ " 

 

Jihoon nods. "We don't really know why, but all we know is one day, we show up to work, and the desk,” he gestures towards the very desk Seongwoo sits at, “Is empty, so."

 

Seongwoo feels his face turn pale. He figures it's obvious, considering Jihoon quickly adds, "But no worries! I'm sure you'll be fine!”

 

"Yeah, thanks... is there anything else I should know?" 

 

Their eyes sparkle, as they shrug. "You'll figure it out, soon enough.”  


Seongwoo frowns at the vague response.

 

"Say, do you want to get lunch with us later?" Woojin asks.

 

And that was that.

 

**✢**

 

  
Maybe it's because of Woojin and Jihoon's solid first day advice, but Seongwoo manages to keep his job under Minhyun for three solid years. And counting.  


 

But today, today, might be the day he quite honestly loses his job. Because, for the first time, in his three years working under Minhyun, Ong Seongwoo is late.

 

Really, Daniel and Jihoon were to blame for it. They had spent all night trying to rise up in ranks for Overwatch, and every time Seongwoo had insisted that he had to sleep, the pair would _insist_ that they couldn’t do it without their beloved tank.

 

(“Daniel, don’t you, I don’t know, have a _wedding to plan_?”  


Daniel laughs. “Sungwoon’s planned all of it. Told me to stay away from anything and everything before I— _fucking, Jihoon, where’s the fucking support bro, fuc—_ before I ruin anything.”

He hears Jihoon snort on another line. “How’s it feel to have that rep, hyung? You’re own fiancé telling you that?”

“Expect a punch in the throat when you come down for the wedding, Hoonie.” Daniel mutters.)

 

He curses as he swiftly grabs the two venti jasmine teas off the Starbucks counter two blocks from the office, and he waves goodbye to Daehwi behind the counter.

 

“Never seen you this late before, hyung!” The latter calls out as Seongwoo rushes out, a mischievous lilt in his voice.

 

“Yeah, yeah! I owe you one, Hwi!”

 

It’s an approximate thirteen minute walk from Starbucks to Minhyun’s office, counting the three minute elevator ride to the 70th floor, but a quick glance at his watch, as he maneuvers around people on the sidewalk, hints that he only has eight minutes.

 

Minhyun didn’t like tardies.

 

(He’s never been late before himself, but three years working for him and watching other people show up to meetings and he _knows,_ knows how frustrated Minhyun gets when there’s wasted time.)

 

He picks up his pace quickly, and though the paper cups burn against his palms, he pays no mind.

 

When he reaches the building, and narrowly avoids other people, the security guard beeps him through, seeing how his hands were full and the speed walk he was doing could be mistaken as a light jog.

 

“Thanks, Taehyun!”

 

“Cutting it close there!” Taehyun calls out behind him, and an uncharacteristic frown forms on Seongwoo’s face.

 

“Not the only one who’s told me that today!”is his response.

 

The whole interaction causes him to slow down his consistent five miles an hour pace, and when he spots the elevator closing, he braces his new leather shoes (that he’s yet to break in) against the marble floors and slides in just in time.

 

He feels sweat forming on his forehead, but he ignores it to check the leather watch strapped to his wrist.

 

7:55. Five minutes left to spare.

 

Damn, is he good.

 

Being one of the higher floors of the building, by the time he reaches the 70th floor, the previous packed elevator had now emptied out, giving Seongwoo more room to breathe, and the heat that had clung onto his body to subside.

 

As the elevator dinged, hinting his final destination, the pep in his step had returned. Three minutes left to spare and he was absolute _God._

 

Except God probably didn’t like a mere _Ong Seongwoo_ comparing himself to the almighty, because one glance at his watch when he’s five, just _five_ steps away from his desk, and Jinyoung from the mail room is tumbling straight into him and knocking over one of the cups he’s holding into his shirt.

 

The first thing he does is hiss, the tea _burns,_ and seriously, _what the fuck Jinyoung?_ but he realizes he doesn’t have time to entertain Jinyoung’s apologies because there’s a huge light green stain forming on his white shirt, and the clock is ticking to down.

 

7:58.

 

_Fuck._

 

He quickly turns towards Woojin sitting in his cubicle across from his desk, laughing at the sudden exchange between Seongwoo and Jinyoung.

 

“Shirt. Off. Now,” Seongwoo says, quickly, panic rising in his voice. “Need it.”

 

_“I— hyung,”_ Woojin’s laughter dies quickly at Seongwoo’s demand.

 

“Minhyun is going to be here in approximately one minute, there’s a huge fucking stain on my shirt. Jihoon’s shirt won’t fit me. _Therefore,_ off. _Now. Please,”_ Seongwoo says.

 

What does Minhyun hate more than tardies? Messes.

 

“And before you reject me again, I’ll do ten manuscripts of yours,” Seongwoo adds. “Just, _please.”_

 

_“Fifteen.”_

 

“Ten!”

 

“Fifteen manuscripts, hyung.”

 

“Fine. Deal. _Off!”_

 

He’s already removed his jacket and is halfway through unbuttoning his shirt right there and then, and he throws Woojin a look of urgency before the younger starts to do the same.

  
“Hyung, my shirt’s _blue,”_ Woojin whispers.

 

Seongwoo pauses temporarily, a hand freezing on the last button. His mind whirls a mile a minute. What’s the _least_ offensive (to Minhyun) approach to this that he can bare? 

  
He shakes his head. “ _Fuck,_ it’ll have to do.”

 

The exchange is done quickly, and by the time he successfully tucks the rest of the shirt in, it’s three seconds to plaster a grin on his face, and grabbing the extra drink he had in his hand before he hears the elevator ding.

 

And at exactly 8:00 am, the 70th floor of Cho & Park Publishing’s laughter and loud conversation dies down to hushed conversations at best, as Hwang Minhyun takes a step onto the marble floor, one hand in his pocket, and the other glued to his phone, texting quickly. 

 

_Showtime._

 

✢

 

See, the thing was, Hwang Minhyun had never been unkind.

 

Or at least, never to Seongwoo. And never to anyone who didn’t deserve it.

 

Sure, he quickly fired Jeon Minho publicly, in front of the whole floor, bluntly, and with the threat of having to be escorted off the premises with security, but _honestly,_ Jeon Minho was a lazy dick who spent more time cheating on his wife than meeting proper deadlines. So.

 

And that one time when Minhyun had made an off hand comment about the loud nature of everyone on the floor, _which,_ Seongwoo could kind of see how that was a dick move, but at the same time, editors _were_ supposed to be you know, _editing,_ and reading manuscripts instead of placing bets on who was going to ask the other out first, Jinyoung or Guanlin.

 

But still.

 

Point is _,_ it wasn’t like Minhyun was the kind of workaholic devil that everyone assumed he was.

 

Well.

 

Workaholic, _yes._ Devil? No.

 

Seongwoo of all people should know, he had worked closely with Minhyun for three years. And the fact of the matter is, Minhyun is just a perfectionist who works too hard and cares too much about this company.

 

Sure Minhyun had a few strict rules, and he’s not really ever sure if that whole _no colored suits_ thing was true, but Seongwoo had never tried to test the theory out, and stuck to _safe._

 

_Point is,_ sure, Minhyun was scary in his own right, but Seongwoo had a soft spot for the guy. It’s not everyday he comes across a genius Vice President, Chief Editor of such a large company, who happens to be the same age as him.

 

(It didn’t mean he wasn’t still scared, though.

 

No matter that Minhyun wasn’t a devil with an evil agenda, he was still a strict, workaholic who didn’t like to leave room for mistakes. Which, Seongwoo couldn’t even blame him for, considering he built himself up to be the right hand man of the CEO’s right hand man — _only two spots away from the job should anything happen —_ at such a young age.

 

_No —_ Seongwoo was still definitely scared. He had made a promise to himself on the first day that Minhyun’s handsome face wasn’t going to change that.

 

All it meant was that he wasn’t as scared as everyone else.)

 

✢

 

 

Minhyun doesn’t even spare Seongwoo a glance as he continues to type into his phone almost angrily,striding into his office.

 

He quickly follows, shutting the door behind them, and by the time he turns around, Minhyun is already sitting at his desk, typing into his computer rapidly.

 

Seongwoo greets him a _Good_ _Morning!_ before he’s setting down the tea down in front of Minhyun and turning on his heel.

 

He’s almost out the door when Minhyun’s voice stops him.

 

“Is that a blue shirt?”

 

Seongwoo freezes. Turns around, slowly.

 

Minhyun’s hand rest slightly above the keys as he pauses, and his eyes are looking at Seongwoo with curiosity.

 

“I’m um, sorry,” Seongwoo blurts out, and before he can stop himself, he’s rambling. “I was wearing a white button down, but then Jinyoung bumped into me and I spilled tea all over myself, and really, it was a green messy stain, and so then I asked Woojin to trade shirts with me but the he didn’t want to but then I was like, _please,_ so he said fine, and then it wasn’t until it was too late that I realized his shirt was _blue,_ but I figured better blue than a stained shirt right? _And_. And…..” 

 

He trails off.

 

Minhyun simply looks at him, a hint of surprised on his face, and it’s a few minutes before Minhyun speaks.

 

“So Woojin is out there right now, with a tea stained suit?”

 

“Um. Yes?”

 

Minhyun simply hums. “Bring my messages to me in five minutes, will you? And show me my schedule for this week. Thanks.”

 

Seongwoo’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He can’t tell if he’s mad about the shirt or not. Minhyun’s face remains blank, as it always does.

 

Seongwoo nods quickly. “Of course.”

 

He pulls open the door and is halfway out of the room when Minhyun calls out to him again.

 

“Seongwoo?”

 

He pops his head back in. “Yeah?”

 

“The blue looks good on you,” Minhyun says casually, but he’s not looking at Seongwoo, rather flipping through a pile of papers on his desk.

 

His ears are tinged red.

 

Seongwoo’s taken aback for a second, and he stands there stunned, confused, but also with a wave of relief flowing through him.

 

“Seongwoo?” Minhyun says again, looking up to stare at him. Seongwoo is snapped out of his daze. “Messages, please? You have three minutes left.”

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry, of course,” he says, and he’s scrambling back out, shutting the door quickly.

 

He doesn't understand why his heart is thumping out of his chest.

  


✢

  


****_god seongwoo_  
  
bros  
_bros  
_ _b r o s_

 

  
**_better park #1  
_**

what do u want  
thnx for ditching  
daniel and i last night btw >:(

**_god seongwoo_ **

bro i stayed up until 5am  
i was almost late this morning  
did wooj not catch u up

  


**_mediocre park #2_  
**

jihoon u still didnt change my MCFONKIN name back?!?!?!?!?!  
and sorry ong? i was kind of um idk  
too busy like  
UM IDK hiding this massive stain on my shirt thank u

  


**_god seongwoo_ **

anyway  
as i was like saying before i was so Rudely interrupted

 

**_better park #1  
_**

_what the fuck_

__

**_mediocre park #2_**  
_WHAT THE FUCK_

 

 ** _god seongwoo  
_**   
//ANYWAY//  
u would  _not_ believe what FCKN happened

 

**_better park #1_ **

omg just say it

**_god seongwoo_ **

ok  
ok so  
OK WOW  
so....

**_mediocre park #2_ **

**** [SCREENSHOT]

  


**_god seongwoo_ **

WAIT  
dont threaten to leave the groupchat FETUS.  
EMBRYO  
it's just that this shites just so crazy bro......

 

** _better park #1  
_ **

......

**_god seongwoo_ **

OK OK serious now  
to catch u ALL UP  
(all as in JIHOON)  
jinyoung, that absolute MESS, bumped into me  
and there was a huge ass fckn stain on my shirt  
so i kindly asked woojin to switch shirts with me  
but then his shirt was blue

 

**_medicore park #2_**  


he didnt kindly ask  
i was literally forced  


 

**_god seongwoo_ **

AS I WAS SAYING  
HIS SHIRT WAS BLUE  
and then  
and /then i was like ok whatever fuck it i guess  
i'll just face his wrath  
and then  
i walkedi n there and tried to pretend nothing happened  
and i was like /good morning! top of the morning to ya!  
in my chipper im the Greatest Assistant Ever voice  
and he was like. is that a blue shirt? and i was like....  
FCK

  


**_mediocre park #2_**  
FUCK

  


**_better park #1_ **

FUCK  
so are u fire d im in  
the cafeteria and cant go to look at u emptying ur desk :P :P :P  
xD  
xD XD  
(um. these are ironic btw)  


  


**_god seongwoo_ **

so ANYWAY  
i start apologizing like crazy cus FUCK minhyun doesn’t like crazy shirts at work i guess..  
and im like damn i know i shouldnt be wearing um.. IDK?!?! COLOR?!?!!?  
BUT IM SORRY?!!?!?!!?!?!?

i mean it was more like  
owo im os sowwy.. this will neve hwappen again…  
& to his hot face im like owo….  
BUT ANYWAY as i was saying  
he doesnt even look at me but then he's like  
I QUOTE  
/hwang minhyun voice/ the blue looks good on you

  


**_better park #1_  
** W

 

**_mediocre park #2  
_ ** wha

  


**_better park #1  
_ ** hwna mingyun voice

 

**_mediocre park #2  
_ ** the blue looks gdoo on YUO

  


**_god seongwoo_ **

i mean we've been knew blue looks good on me  
but  
POINT IS IM STILLLLL HERE BAABY  
FAWK  
g2g  
he calling me

 

**_mediocre park #2_ **

WAIT

  


**_better park #1_ **

BITCH?

  


 

"Seongwoo?" a voice calls, and Seongwoo whips his head up from typing rapidly into the chat on his computer. He scrambles quickly towards the voice, into Minhyun’s office, and plasters a polite smile on his face. 

“Yes, sir?”

Minhyun doesn’t spare a glance at Seongwoo as he continues to look through the files in front of him. He flips to the next page loudly. “Jisung’s been bothering the hell out of me to come see him. Can you tell him I’ll be up there in five minutes? Also come get me when I’ve been up there for more than ten minutes. Please.”

Seongwoo nods quickly. “Make up some excuse to get you out of there?”

“As always.”

Seongwoo almost laughs. “I’ll go ahead and tell CEO Yoon you’ll be up in five minutes, sir!”

It’s a brief, almost inaudible, _Thanks,_ on Minhyun’s side, before Seongwoo is returning back to his desk.

 

✢

 

“Good morning, Mr. Hwang,” Jonghyun, Jisung’s assistant calls out to him as he passes by.

He barely gives a nod towards the other, opening the double doors to Jisung’s office to enter. 

“And to what do I owe this pleasure, _hyung_?” Minhyun says, strolling in with a polite smile on his face.

“Minhyun,” Jisung says, looking up from his computer, and pushing the glasses resting on his nose higher above his face. “Finally. I’ve been trying to get you to stop by my office for the past couple days, you know.”

Minhyun shrugs. “You know how it is.”

Jisung simply chuckles.

“Minhyun, I’ve actually called you in for a very serious reason. Now, you know how much I appreciate you not only as an integral _workpiece_ to this company but as a person,” Jisung starts.

Minhyun almost laughs. 

“You’re scaring me. If this is about Mr. Park not wanting to do a sequel, I’ve already talked him and he said yes. You undertestimate me, hyung, as always,” he teases.

Jisung pointedly ignores him. “ _Minhyun.”_

He quiets down, a frown gracing his face as he realizes the seriousness in Jisung’s voice. _Okay,_ he thinks. _Not about Mr. Park and his sequel._

“Remember, when you went to Japan to convince Mr. Yoshida to release his book here in Korea?”

“Yes.”

“Remember how that was while you’re work visa was being processed so you weren’t technically allowed to go out of the country until it was finished processing? And I told you Jeon Minho should go instead?”

“Yes.”

Jisung raises his eyebrows.

Minhyun scoffs. “I mean, yeah, but that was a billion won deal that we were going to lose if I didn’t talk to him. I _saved_ it, though. Not Jeon Minho. That piece of shit would’ve just wasted a business trip because Mr. Yoshida still would’ve said no to him.”

Jisung sighs. “Well, apparently the Republic of Korea doesn’t quite thing that’s a valid enough excuse, Minhyun.”

“What?”

“Minhyun, you’re getting deported,” Jisung says, exasperatedly.

“I— _excuse_ _me_?”

“Your immigration attorney has been calling me all week, Minhyun.” Jisung explains, leaning backwards to rub at his forehead. “I tried to see what I can do, but. But, Minhyun. You’re getting deported.”

“ _Deported?”_

_“_ He even said you didn’t even finish filling out some other paperwork. I mean,” Jisung shakes his head, disappointment evident. “I mean, what were you _thinking,_ Minhyun?”

What was he thinking? What was he  _thinking?_

“How am I getting _deported?”_ Minhyun’s voice rises. He runs a hand over his face. “I’m barely… I’m barely a _foreigner,_ for Christ’s sake. I mean. I mean, I’m _Korean,_ Jesus Christ? Barely even Korean-American, I mean I only moved to the United States in _high_ _school_ and got my U.S Citizenship when I was in _college_. I mean. I mean, I’m not even a foreigner, what the—“

Jisung cuts him off. “I _understand_ that, Minhyun, and if there was something I could do, I would’ve done it already. But I don’t have a choice. _You_ don’t have a choice.”

Minhyun’s almost rendered speechless. He racks his brain for a solution. _Deported?_ His own _true_ motherland _deporting_ him?

“I, uh. That’s fine? That’s fine! I mean,” he laughs almost manically. “I mean. We live in the twenty-first century now. No big deal. No worries. I can take meetings over Skype and do conference calls, right? No problem and I—“

“Minhyun, you can’t. You can’t work for our company while you are deported. You have to be back in the United States for a year while we reapply.”

“ _Jesus Ch—“_

_“_ Um, excuse me?”

Both Jisung and Minhyun’s heads whip towards the door.

Seongwoo stands there, sheepishly. “So sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Kim, writer of _Over the Sea,_ you know, has been calling for the past hour. Says, he really needs to talk to you, Minhyun. I mean. Mr. Hwang. Sir. I tried to hold him off as much as I can but he says it is very urgent.”

He throws a look at Minhyun.

“Seongwoo, hi. We’re a bit busy right now can you—“ Jisung starts.

Seongwoo bows stiffly at Jisung.  "I'm so sorry, CEO Yoon. Sir," he turns to look at Minhyun with a raised eyebrow. "He really needs to speak with you."

"I get that Seongwoo, but I'm having a very important conversation with Minhyun right now and—"

Seongwoo. Wait.

Minhyun interrupts Jisung. 

 

“Jisung, y-you’re you’re right! I can’t do overseas. And. I mean. We weren’t planning on doing it for another year or even announcing it any time soon. But I guess. Now. Um. Now is the best time. More than ever. So. _So—“_ Minhyun gestures towards Seongwoo to come towards him. Seongwoo inches away from the door, surprise evident on his face. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights. Minhyun yanks him by the arm and wraps his own around Seongwoo’s waist. Seongwoo yelps. “So I guess now is the time to tell you that. Um. Seongwoo and I. Are engaged! Getting married? Yes, we’re getting married.”

“Excuse me?”

“Um, what the fuck?”

Both Minhyun and Jisung whip towards Seongwoo as the profanity escapes his lips. Seongwoo reddens, and clears his throat, throwing his arm back to scratch his neck.

“Sorry. I um,” Seongwoo starts.

Beside him, Minhyun pinches his waist, and he jumps a little.

  
“You’re,” Jisung looks at them warily with a wave of his eyebrows. “You two, are getting married.”

A deadpan.

“I— uh. Yes?” Seongwoo squeaks out. He turns his head slowly, braving a look at Minhyun. Minhyun doesn’t even glance at him, his smile towards Jisung the biggest he’s ever seen Minhyun smile.

“I—“ Jisung’s brow furrows. “Seongwoo… is your. Secretary.”

 

“I prefer to be called Executive Assistant?”

“I mean, this wouldn’t be the first time people fell in love with their secretaries, am I right…”

Seongwoo and Minhyun say at the same time. 

Minhyun tacks on awkward laugh towards the end.

“I mean, we weren’t supposed to get married until next year — we haven’t even announced it to anyone, you know. Our relationship, that is. I mean. What would people _think_? We were two people who weren’t really meant to fall in love,” Minhyun laughs pulling Seongwoo closer to him. He feels Seongwoo’s reddening and warm skin against his. “But. I guess. I guess you can’t fight love, right, hyung? So. Yeah. We can. We can just make the wedding happen, uh, a lot faster than planned. Uh, right? Honey?”

Minhyun turns to look at Seongwoo, and while Seongwoo still wasn’t quite sure what was happening, the look in Minhyun’s eyes causes him to smile and nod.

Jisung sighs belatedly, and smiles at them. “That’s great, Minhyun. Really. I’m glad you found love. You’re always working, you know. This is great, the both of you guys. You too, Seongwoo.”

“I— thanks?”

“I’m hurt you didn’t tell me sooner, Minhyun, but I understand where you’re coming from… considering you’re, uh. Relationship with each other.”

Minhyun laughs his signature laugh, swaying on the balls of his feet. It’s a rare one that Seongwoo has heard _, Minhyun rarely laughs_ , he thinks, but it’s one he thinks can be the equivalent to bells ringing softly.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you, hyung. And for not telling you. I’m glad you understand.”

Jisung nods. “Just make it legal. Soon. As soon as possible, yeah?”

He points to his ring finger, and gives them a wink.

“Yeah, of course, hyung,” Minhyun responds.

“Yes, sir,” Seongwoo manages to say, dazed, before Minhyun is ushering him out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [writing twt](https://twitter.com/dinuguans) ♡
> 
> [main twt](https://twitter.com/haecns)!


	2. you’re so naive (yes, so?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd i'm sorry i'm really tired of looking at thsi to be honest

The ride down in the elevator is one filled with empty silence. Minhyun stays in front of the elevator doors, one hand casually in his pocket, as usual, another one typing quickly into his phone. Seongwoo stands behind him, back practically pushed into the wall, with an almost bated breath, scared to break the silence.

His mind is racing a mile a minute, and he’s not quite sure what just happened. _Marry Minhyun? Why did it feel so nice when Minhyun held his waist? When Minhyun was so close to him. He smelled good. Wait, what the fuck are you thinking, that’s your boss?_

 

“Minhyun, I’m not quite sure what happened back there, but uh—“

“Not here. In my office, yeah?”

It’s a quiet walk back to his office, and right when he’s about to follow Minhyun inside, Minhyun turns on his heel, to face him, eyebrows raised.

“Um, you said in your office—“

“Have a conference call in five minutes.”

“I thought we were supposed to talk about—“

Minhyun sighs, exasperatedly, and Seongwoo is a bit offended that Minhyun is making it seem like Seongwoo is giving him a hard time, when quite honestly, it was the other way around.

“I’ll call you in, okay? In the mean time, I need you to check my schedule for this week make sure I get to talk to the writer of that one children’s novel, what's his name, the one with the weird, ugly hands—oh, and clear my schedule for tomorrow night as I promised a dinner with Mr. Ho. Also, oh yeah, we need to _both_ make time to clear our schedules to go to City Hall next week. So find a way in between your schedule and my meetings, okay?”

“City Hall?” Seongwoo echoes. “Okay, sir, I told you that this weekend is my best friend’s wedding right, and you told me it was okay to go? But I’ll definitely have everything done by next we—“

“Yeah, sure. But make sure. City Hall is important, alright?”

“Of course, I mean I’m still not exactly sure why but I’ll make sure to schedule the both of us fo—“

“Exactly. Thanks, Seongwoo,” Minhyun says, shutting the door in his face.

Seongwoo blinks slowly. Then scoffs.

_Find a way between my schedule and his meetings._ As if his whole schedule, his whole _life,_ didn’t revolve around the Great Hwang Minhyun’s schedule in the first place.

It was times like this that Seongwoo forgets that Minhyun is an irritating boss because he’s so _good_ at his job, and he just wants to spit in Minhyun’s face and quit forever. 

But he doesn’t. 

Because he’s worked way too hard for three years, dealing with exactly _this._ This type of shit that Minhyun pulled on him, and he just had to adjust. _Adjust_ to Minhyun always, because that was his job.

But he was so close. So _close,_ he could practically _taste_ being editor, so instead, Seongwoo stares straight ahead at the closed door in front of him, sighs heavily, stands up straight, and goes back to work.

 

“So here’s the deal,” Minhyun says, clearing his throat and refusing to meet Seongwoo’s eyes.

Seongwoo sits in front of him, legs crossed, looking at him with raised eyebrows. It’s after hours, and most of the office is cleared out, except the two of them in the comforts of Minhyun’s office.

Seongwoo had spent all day trying to ignore the itching at the back of his head that something, _something,_ was to go horribly wrong when Minhyun explained the situation to him. He had put two in two together, but he was still quite confused on why he and Minhyun were getting married. Or ‘married’. He’s not sure if they’re actually _getting_ _married_ or, just like, getting married, and _is this even allowed? Can he refuse?_

“Here’s the deal, Seongwoo,” Minhyun starts again.

“Sir?”

"Listen," Minhyun starts again, before the sentence dies on his lips.

"Is there something _—"_

“Ah fuck it,” Minhyun sighs. He runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m getting deported, Seongwoo.”

Seongwoo blinks. Then gapes at him. 

Then, “ _Wait, you’re not Korea—“_

“I’m Korean,” Minhyun responds, before Seongwoo can finish his sentence. He rolls his eyes. “I moved to America back in high school. And got my citizenship in university. I’m Korean, but _technically_ I’m American.”

“I— that’s why you can speak English so well?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you were just some genius.”

“Are you saying I’m not, anymore?”

“I— of course not!”

Seongwoo’s face reddens, as a hint of a smile adorns on Minhyun’s face.

Just as quickly as it comes, it goes, and the blank look that Seongwoo has gotten so used to adorns his face. 

“Point is, I’m getting deported, and I need to marry you. So I can stay here, of course.” He says it like a matter-of-fact, as if he didn’t just ask Seongwoo to _marry him,_ as in like, _legally married._ As if he didn’t just ask Seongwoo for (to put it lightly,) an incredibly, big favor.

“Excuse me?” Seongwoo responds, surprise evident in his voice.

“Why? Saving yourself for someone special?”

“No, sorry, yeah. Can you repeat that again? You want me to _what?”_

“Seongwoo, I’m sure you heard me the first time.”

“Yeah, I thought I did, _Minhyun,”_ and Minhyun’s eyes twitch, hearing something other than _sir_ or _Mr. Hwang_ come out of Seongwoo’s mouth for the first time. “But I’m pretty sure that’s like, I don’t know illegal.”

“Oh come on, you know, this is for you, too. _”_

_“For me?”_ He gapes. “Minhyun, I can’t just _marry you.”_

“Yes, you can. With no me, _you_ have no job, Seongwoo. You’re my assistant? Besides, no one will even know we’re married! You will marry me, we’ll be married, only _legally—_ don’t worry,I’m not stingy, you can get with whoever you want to get with— but after the required allotted time, we’ll get a quick, little, divorce, and everything will be set.”

“ _Minhyun, I’m not going to marry you,”_ Seongwoo forces out, head spinning. 

_He could go to jail for this. Could he go to jail for this? He could definitely go to jail for this._

“What’s the problem, Seongwoo,” Minhyun sighs, leaning forward.

“Have you not been listening to what I’ve been saying?” Seongwoo hisses, throwing his hand up.“This is _illegal,_ and if I get caught, it’s not _you_ going to jail, it’s _me!”_

_“_ That’s why we don’t tell anyone, ever. We never mention it unless someone asks, and when we do, we just say we’re married. Easy. This will all just be very quick.”

"It's not that easy," Seongwoo argues. "I mean, I'm pretty sure this is some sort of felony, to like, just— I really don't think this is as simple as you're making this out to be, Min-Sir."

Seongwoo’sshoulders slump as he leans down to clutch his forehead with his right hand. He was a _God_ this morning. Minhyun liked his blue shirt. Everything was going so right. _How did he end up here?_

_“_ Listen,” Minhyun says, and for the first time since the conversation has started, Minhyun looks desperate and sympathetic. His usual sharp eyes have softened, and he’s leaning forward. “Listen. You do this for me, I’ll make you editor. Don’t think I don’t see you looking through all those manuscripts on your desk. You marry me, and I’ll give you that promotion that I know you so desperately want.”

Seongwoo is quiet for a moment. He still looks skeptical, and for a second, Minhyun thinks he’s going to say no again.  
  
“I have a manuscript. That I think is amazing. I want it printed,” Seongwoo says slowly.

“Done. Ten thousand copies first run.”

“Thirty thousand copies.”

“Twenty thousand.”

Seongwoo sighs. “Twenty thousand.”

Minhyun grins. “Then we’re all set? You’re agreeing to this?”

“I also get a raise.”

“You’re already getting a promotion. That comes with a raise.”

“ _No,_ ” Seongwoo argues. “A raise _after_ the promotion is set in place.”

Minhyun looks at him with narrowed eyes.

“Minhyun, I could go to _prison,”_ Seongwoo retorts. “This is asking the _bare minimum.”_

Minhyun sighs. “Ten percent raise.”

“ _Twenty_ percent.”

“No deal!”

Seongwoo shrugs, setting his hands on his knees, getting up from his seat. “No problem. I’m not the one who needs help here.”

“Fine, fine,  _f_ _ine,”_ Minhyun scrambles, sighing. “Twenty percent raise along with your promotion.”

“Okay,” Seongwoo grins, settling back down into his seat. “Deal.”

 

 

 

Seongwoo walks into work the next day, a pep in his step, a bright smile on his face. He’s at the office extra early today, and he sets Minhyun’s tea down in his office, before walking, almost _swaggering (_ if he does say so himself), to his desk. He picks up his nameplate on his desk, trying to suppress his giggling at _Executive Assistant_ under his name. Soon it’ll be _Editor,_ and he’ll have his own cubicle. Being able to publish all the books he wants.

The feeling of possibly being _jailed_ dies on him last night, as Minhyun and him come to an agreement not to openly share it with others. They had agreed not to tell anyone, not even their families, the real truth of their deal. The less people who know, the better. It had seemed safe enough, and now the only thing in his vision was the idea of hitting it big, and being finally what he came here to do three years ago, finally be an _editor_.

He sighs, leaning back into his chair. He still has twenty minutes to spare before Minhyun comes into work. A quiet time for him to relax before the whirlwind of being the assistant of _Hwang Minhyun._

_“_ You and _him?”_ He hears a hiss, and when he looks up, Jihoon and Woojin are in front of his desk, looking at him pointedly.

“I thought you hated him,” Woojin says, and though he has a blank look on his face, his voice is filled with shock.

“I— what?”

“Jonghyun told us.”

“Told you what?”  
  
“You know,” Jihoon whispers, raising his hand to point at his ring finger. “You and _Minhyun.”_

_“_ He,” Seongwoo looks up at him in surprise. “He _told_ you?”

Seongwoo’s face colors, and his face is slowly starting to contort into annoyance as he feels the beginning stage of a headache come around. _Jonghyun_ , _that_ _snitch_. He probably heard it from Jisung’s office the day before. He makes a mental note to force an apology dinner out of Jonghyun.

“I don’t hate him,” Seongwoo says, emptily.

“Bro, everyone knows,” Woojin retorts, and makes a face that can only be described as _yikes._

He gestures behind him, and when Seongwoo turns to the rest of the floor, he sees everyone vaguely acting like they aren’t eavesdropping on the conversation that they so clearly are. 

“What the fuck,” Seongwoo whispers. 

“Anyway, is it, like….” 

“Like, are you forreal?” Jihoon rolls his eyes at Woojin’s uneasiness to approach the topic. “Or are you like, just fucking him to get a promotion?”

“I— _what, no!”_

(I mean, technically _yeah,_ but no fucking. No way. Not even. 

You know, it was just _marriage_. Easy.)

“What! It’s valid,” Woojin says. “I mean, _I_ would do it.”

Jihoon whacks Woojin on the arm. “I think we would _all_ do it… I mean… he’s kind of hot.”

“Oh my god, Jihoon!” Seongwoo exclaims rolling his eyes, and sitting up properly. “That’s my boss.”

“And your _fiance?_ What? As if you haven’t thought about it before? I mean it’s obvious that you have…”

Seongwoo’s face reddens. Because truth is, he _has._ I mean, who wouldn’t? Hwang Minhyun, his _boss_ , was undeniably handsome, fit, and mysterious. Everything you would want in a boy to pull you in.

He shakes his head.

“No I’m not just, _fucking_ him,”Seongwoo explains. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” Woojin’s brow furrows. “Aren’t you guys engaged? Shouldn’t you like…”

“Un-complicate it?” Jihoon finishes. “And also why do you still act like, weird around him, as if you guys aren’t like, being freaky in the sheets after hours.”

A wiggle of the eyebrows.

Seongwoo narrows his eyes. “Mind your business. He’s still my _boss,_ at least here in the workplace _._ It’s not like he still won’t fire me if I fuck up. He, just, takes his job seriously, you know?”

“But still,” Jihoon frowns. “You guys are so weird. You really talked like you didn’t care about him.”

Seongwoo sighs. “It’s just… complicated. I mean. I’m his assistant, you know? He’s my boss. It’s embarrassing.”

“Please don’t _say anything_ to anyone else _,”_ he adds.

Jihoon shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry Seongwoo, everyone knows already. It wasn’t _us_ , but, you know how things spread around here.”

Seongwoo curses the floor’s inability to keep any gossip at bay. He knows full well when it’s about anyone else (how Jinyoung spilled coffee all over himself so Guanlin could help clean him up, or when Haknyeon and Hyungseob broke up and everyone knew about how Haknyeon threw all of Hyungseob’s things out the window) he would be eating all the gossip up himself, but this was about _him,_ and his possible _crime._

“Yeah whatever, it’s cool. Just, don’t tell anyone else?” Seongwoo pleads, rummaging his hand through his hair. “Minhyun and I are engaged, yeah, but we’re still trying to figure our relationship out, you know. Everything’s just a little bit complicated, and we’re trying to keep everything as private as possible, right now.”

_Whew,_ he thinks to himself. _Good lie, Seongwoo. Quick on your feet._

Woojin and Jihoon exchange a look, and he turns to look at them with suspicion. Woojin nudges Jihoon, and Jihoon’s face turns into a face of irritation as he pinches Woojin back.

They start whispering between each other, and though Seongwoo is close to them he’s not sure what they’re saying.

“What? What is it?” Seongwoo asks.

Woojin pinches Jihoon again. “Tell him.”

Seongwoo narrows his eyes. “What did you do?”

“Well, you see…”

“Yeah?”

“Well, so I was playing games with Daniel last night, as usual you know,” Jihoon starts.

“Uh-huh.”

“And we were kind of just talking…”

“Yeah.”

“And when we were _talking,”_ Jihoon speaks slowly, his face looking more guilty by the minute.

Seongwoo drums his hands against his thigh impatiently.

Just then, Seongwoo’s phone rings from his thigh, and he makes a noise as he fishes it out. He forgets to put it on silent, so _I’m a banana allergy monkey but I still like bananas,_ starts ringing from his phone.

Woojin and Jihoon both throw him a look with raised eyebrows, and he rolls his eyes as he fumbles to answer it. “Oh _please,_ it’s a good song, okay?”  
  
“Hello?” He says into his phone. Amidst his conversation with Jihoon and Woojin, he forgets to check the caller I.D

“ _You’re fucking engaged?!”_ He hears a screech on the other end of the line.

“I- _Sungwoon hyung?”_

_“_ Yeah, congrats, you know how to recognize voices, Seongwoo. Now answer the fucking question. _Engaged?!”_

_“_ H-how do you even know, what the fu—“

He looks up, just as Jihoon shoots him a sheepish look. Seongwoo narrows his eyes.

Jihoon fidgets with a loose string on his wrist. “I… may have told Daniel last night.”

“You _what?”_ Seongwoo hisses.

“He’s your best friend! I thought he knew!”

“I knew I should’ve never introduced you guys,” Seongwoo mumbles angrily. “Oh hey, my best friends in Seoul and my best friends back home! What could go wrong! Haha! What could go _wrong?”_

“Yeah, what the kid said,” Sungwoon says, over the crackle of the line. “How could you not tell anyone? _Daniel? Us?”_

_“_ Hyung,” Seongwoo whines. “Stop scolding me. I had my reasons.”

“Listen, if you’re with your boss — who you kind of called a demon, I might add — to get a promotion, you don’t have to hide it from _us, you know._ You should know by now that we support any and all decisions to _do_ _what_ _you_ _gotta do_ to get higher in this cutthroat world! We wouldn’t have judged you, I mean, especially Daniel and I considering I was his college T.A, _you know—_ which, I mean, I guess isn’t as bad as fucking your boss, since I was still in grad school and everything but anyway, I’m getting off topic what I’m trying to say _is_ —“

“Sungwoon hyung,” Seongwoo whines again, interrupting him. He lowers his voice. “I’m not _fucking_ my boss to get higher up in the company.”

(Not fucking, just simply, you know, _marrying_ him. Silver linings.)

“I didn’t introduce you guys, because, it’s only been a few months and I didn’t know how seriouswe were. I didn’t,” Seongwoo pauses. “I didn’t want to introduce him to anyone in my life until I knew we were serious, you know. And here for the long run. But then, uh, then he proposed.”

He makes eye contacts with both Jihoon and Woojin who are hanging on to his every word even if he’s talking on the phone with Sungwoon, and he feels their eyes soften, just as Sungwoon answers over the phone, a gentler tone.

“And then?”

“And then,” Seongwoo hums, and suddenly words he didn’t even think of are coming out of his mouth. “I couldn’t find it in my heart to say no. Say no to a forever without him. I guess we really were serious all this time. And I was just too scared.”

Jihoon and Woojin coo at him at the same time.

(“Why don’t you ever say shit like that about me?” He hears Woojin whispers to Jihoon.

“Oh shut up, how do you know I don’t?”

“You do?” Woojin’s voice is as soft as butter. “ _Honey.”)_

_“_ Oh, _Seongwoo,”_ he hears Sungwoon’s voice over the line. “Usually I’d call you stupid for marrying someone after a few months. But. But you sound really happy, Seongwoo.”

“Thanks, hyung,” he says, smiling into the phone. He knows it’s a role he’s playing, but somehow the last few minutes of this conversation seem so genuine. Hearing Sungwoon’s happiness over the engagement makes him temporarily forget that it’s all fake. Only temporarily, though.

He shakes his head. _None of this is actually real._

_“_ And you’re sure about this? That you love him?”

Seongwoo laughs. “Yes, I am. As sure as I have ever been.”

“Then I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, hyung."

It scares him how easily the lies roll off his tongue.

“Oh, I’m so excited to tell you this in person this weekend and—“

Jinyoung walks past them with his mail cart, dropping a stack on Seongwoo’s desk. 

“Two minutes, hyungs,” Jinyoung warns them. 

“Ah fuck,” Seongwoo says, as Woojin and Jihoon scramble to go back to their cubicles. “Listen Sungwoon hyung, gotta go."

”Wait, no, I still have to talk to you about someth—” 

”Hyung,” Seongwoo whispers, leaning down towards his back to shut his phone off. “Have to go. Minhyun’s coming to work. Bye.”

 

 

Nothing much changes that day, different from what Seongwoo had thought. 

Well, almost. Kind of.

Seongwoo had started out the day thinking they had gotten to a sort of _friendship_ relationship, considering he was _saving_ Minhyun’s ass from getting deported. He had ended the day, the opposite: wishing that they were back to their boss-assistant relationship.

It goes a little something like this:

Seongwoo walks into Minhyun’s office only to find that Minhyun is treating him like he always has — closed off, professional, and busy; as if the day before never happened. He simply nods when Seongwoo drops off his tea, asks Seongwoo why his voicemails aren’t on a post-it, and barely spares a glance. Seongwoo stands there for a second, stunned, and when Minhyun looks at him with raised eyebrows, he slumps into his shoulders and goes on his way. He continues to do his work throughout the whole day, and tries to stop sneaking glances at Minhyun every five minutes.

The rest of their floor waggles their eyebrows at Seongwoo whenever they can, eyes darting back and forth between Minhyun’s office and him, and during lunch he’s subject to relentless teasing across the street at the pizza restaurant they all frequent.

It goes on like that for almost the whole day, and Seongwoo himself even almost forgets, when suddenly Minhyun is calling him inside his office, and his voice has a slight edge of panic to it.

“Yeah?” Seongwoo says, popping in to Minhyun’s office, head first.

When Minhyun looks up and spots him, he looks at Seongwoo with a sense of urgency, and gestures for him to come inside.

Seongwoo slowly shuts the door, and he doesn’t know why he’s moving so slowly but in a few seconds when he realizes why, he thinks his body had some kind of intuition of _Picture Taken 4 Seconds Before the End of the World._

_“_ What?” Seongwoo says again.

Minhyun gives him one look, eyes narrowed, before he’s pressing the speaker button on his phone and looking at Seongwoo.

“Hi, sorry, about that, I was just calling Seongwoo. He’s here now,” Minhyun says, voice more high-pitched and almost sweet-like, completely opposite from the look he has on his face.

“Oh, is he?” The voice on the other line says happily. _Oh, no. Oh, no? Oh, no._ “Hi, Seongwoo, finally.”

“ _Sungwoon_ - _hyung_?”

“What the fuck,” he hisses. He scrambles forward, grabbing the phone and turning off the speaker button before he’s almost growling into the phone.

“Hyung,” he says warningly. “Why are you calling my _boss.”_

_“_ I mean, he’s not just your boss, right? He’s also your fiancé! I thought he definitely wouldn’t mind meeting your best friends, you know!”

“But hyung. We’re at work right now, this is _work,_ couldn’t you have called later?”

“Well, I didn’t just call for no reason, you know. This was urgent news. And you weren’t picking up your phone so of course I had to do something,” Sungwoon sniffs.

“Hyung, I’ll call you back later.”

“Nope, actually I want to talk to Minhyun now. I was having a good conversation with Minhyun, you know! His family’s from Busan. Like Daniel. Now, put him back on the phone,” Seongwoo says cheerily.

“ _No_ , I’ll call you back la—“

“Put him back on the phone, _Seongwoo_ ,” Sungwoon says, and he’s using the voice he always uses when you know he means business.

Seongwoo sighs, and gives an apologetic look to Minhyun as he hands the receiver back to him.

Minhyun looks at him alarmingly again, never taking eye contact off of Seongwoo as he places the phone to his ear.

“Hyung?” Minhyun says slowly, quietly, and Seongwoo raises his eyebrows at him, incredulously. 

_Hyung? What are you doing calling him,_ ** _my hyung,_** _hyung?!_ Seongwoo’s eyes are telling him.Minhyun shrugs.

Seongwoo vaguely hears Sungwoon saying something over the phone, and Minhyun nods, before mumbling out an “alright” when he realizes Sungwoon can’t see him. He reaches over and puts the phone on speaker.

“Seongwoo? Minhyun? You both there?”

“Uh, yeah,” they both say in unison.

“Okay, good! So. Let me repeat. I’m sorry to bother, but this really was just important business, you know. Listen, I’m with my wedding coordinator now—Jongin, say hello,” Sungwoon says, and a muffled _hello_ ensues. “ _And,_ I was thinking. Well. You know, as soon as I found out, it just felt, really incredibly rude of me if Minhyun doesn’t end up going to the wedding as well.”

_Oh. Oh no._ How many times has he thought this in the past five minutes?

“Hyung?” Seongwoo says, questioningly. “What?”

Minhyun looks at him with panic in his eyes and shakes his head quickly, furiously. _No, no, no I’m not going. What the fuck,_ Minhyun mouths furiously.

_I mean I know you’re not going what the hell I don’t want you to come,_ Seongwoo whispers back, words coming out a mile a minute. 

“Hello?”

“Um, hyung. I. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Seongwoo responds, stuttering. “Um… Yeah it’s just really last minute and Minhyun’s busy this weekend anyway, and so it just—“

“Seongwoo, let the man answer for himself, maybe? And you know, I _know_ this is last minute but I already rearranged quite literally _everyone,_ all _two hundred guests,_ just to be able to fit in Minhyun in and you know how hard that was. My wedding’s this weekend, but I just _really_ wanted your fiancé to come. I mean, how can he not come to our wedding?” Sungwoon’s voice says, a sickeningly sweet type of pleading. 

Seongwoo grimaces, the kind of grimace he always did back when they were in university and he knew Sungwoon had won the argument. He looks at Minhyun for help. _It’s your turn,_ he mouths to Minhyun.

“I—,” Minhyun says, and Seongwoo has never seen his boss looks so helpless before, so out of his element. “Um, Sungwoon hyung, that really would be wonderful but I just have a ton of workto do this weekend, and I would hate to intrude, really. I mean! This is uh, your weekend, you know. I. Uh. We can definitely set a date after this weekend to meet, I would _love_ to meet you guys, truly. But, uh, hyung, I really can’t this wee—“

“Oh I’ve already said, you’re not intruding! And I mean, of course we can meet afterwards, but this really is one of the biggest milestones of my life, and I want all of my friends and family to be there, you know. I just think it really would be horrible if I come to your wedding in the future, and I’m in _all_ your wedding pictures but you’re not in mine?” Sungwoon’s voice pleads, almost upset. “It just feels _so bad_ for my conscience, knowing that you’re Seongwoo’s fiancé and you didn’t come to our wedding.”

Sungwoon strategically adds in a sniffle, making his voice waver towards the end, and though Seongwoo can’t say anything more on the matter, he shakes his head quickly at Minhyun. _No, no, stay STRONG,_ he mouths.

“I—“ Minhyun repeats, but one look at him, and Seongwoo already knows his argument is crumbling. “I— there’s just so much work, and I—“

“Oh, please, _Minhyun?”_ Sungwoon asks again. “It’s my wedding. My once in a lifetime wedding. I really will be so sad if you won’t be there with Seongwoo. I mean, Seongwoo _is_ one of my closest friends, practically my brother, and I can’t imagine his _fiance,_ his _other half,_ not being at my wedding, right? You could always bring your work here, and can’t you just take two days off to attend?”

Seongwoo’s jaw drops slightly, and he prays and prays that Minhyun’s strong, fearless, take-no-shit attitude he sees daily in meetings reigns here during this conversation as well.

“I—“ Minhyun slumps in his chair, and runs a hand through his hair. He’s quiet for a few seconds. Minhyun has never looked so unhinged. “I. Okay, yeah.”

He’s also never seen Sungwoon lose an argument in his life.

_What, no, no this isn’t supposed to happen,_ Seongwoo hisses. Minhyun looks up at him and narrows his eyes. _What the fuck am I supposed to do,_ Minhyun snaps back at him, before his face turns into a look of pity. _He really wants us there._

Seongwoo rolls his eyes.

“Oh, wow!” Sungwoon says happily over the phone,all traces of almost-crying gone, his voice strong as ever. “That’s great. So great. Minhyun, I can’t wait to meet you, seriously. Great. Ah! This is going to be so fun. Seongwoo you said you’ll leave by Friday, right? Can’t want to see you both! Ah, I have to go. See you!”

He rambles quickly, and Seongwoo barely has time to catch anything he actually said, what with the whole room spinning. Sungwoon doesn’t wait for them to say goodbye, before he’s hanging up and all that’s left in the air is the dial tone. He grabs on to a chair to steady himself.

 

Minhyun’s jaw drops. “Did we just get tricked?”

“Did that just happen?”

“How did he even get my number?” Minhyun responds blankly, staring off into space.

It’s a few minutes of silence as they process what’s happening. This really wasn’t supposed to happen. For anyone in his life, let alone his friends and his family to even know his arrangement with Minhyun. He couldn’t tell them why he really was doing this, they’d be disappointed in him, for doing something probably one hundred percent illegal. And now he had to keep up the act in front of them — the people he knew best. He didn’t know how much this could possibly unravel.

“God, you were supposed to say no,” Seongwoo whines, slumping down into the seat, pointing an accusatory finger at Minhyun.

“ _Me?”_ Minhyun scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning backwards into his seat. “He’s _your_ friend! You should’ve said no from the get-go, yeah? God, what is this? Go to a wedding? Of people I don’t even know?”

Seongwoo looks affronted at how Minhyun blames him.

“Well, he wouldn’t even be inviting you if you didn’t ask me to, uh, I don’t know marry you?” Seongwoo sniffs, pointing his head higher. “At the end of the day, this is _your_ fault?”

Minhyun’s face falls, and he looks away, out his floor-to-ceiling windows, into the Seoul skyline, eyes hardening.

“I’m,” Seongwoo starts. He sighs, running his fingers through his bangs. “I’m so sorry. That was completely unprofessional on Sungwoon’s part to call you during work hours. And you’re right. It is weird to go a wedding when you don’t know anyone. You don’t have to come. I’ll make some excuse that you got. Food poisoning or something when I get there.”

Minhyun tears his eyes away from the window to look at Seongwoo. They stare at each other for a while, almost so abnormally long, that Seongwoo starts to wring his wrists uncomfortably. Minhyun sighs. “I— I. No. I don’t want you to get in trouble. By Sungwoon. And it wouldn’t be fair. If I just backed out and all.”

Seongwoo’s eyebrows hike up. “Are you… are you saying you’ll come?”

“Don’t you think they’ll see through us? Your friends?” Minhyun asks instead.

Seongwoo shrugs. “I… I guess we have to. Act like a real couple? Are you… okay with that?”

Minhyun’s face turns into an unreadable expression, and he shrugs, giving a low laugh. “Holding hands, occasionally? I’m okay with that. It shouldn’t be bad, right?”

Seongwoo nods. “I haven’t been in a relationship in years,” a low, awkward laugh, “but I’m assuming so.”

Minhyun nods. “Yeah. Okay. It’s fine. I’ll just. We’ll text each other, okay? On the plans and stuff. Where’s the wedding? I can just meet you there.”

“Oh, uh, It’s actually. In Busan. So. I’m taking the train there on Friday afternoon,” Seongwoo responds. “It’s why I asked for a half day for that Friday a couple months ago. The wedding’s on Sunday, though.”

“Oh, um, okay. I guess. I guess I’ll take the train there on Saturday night, or something?”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” Seongwoo nods. “That works.”

“Okay, good. Good. Yeah,” Minhyun agrees, and a slow silence creeps up on them.

“Or,” Seongwoo says, quietly. “Or you can come with me on that Friday?”

They’re looking at each other again, this time an unreadable expression on both of their faces.

“Yeah,” Minhyun nods, slowly. “Yeah, that’s fine, too. Sure.”

A small smile forms on Seongwoo’s face.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Seongwoo nods, and he gets up from his chair. “Listen, you really don’t have to do this if you don’t want. I’ll come up with some excuse.”

“No,” Minhyun shakes his head quickly. “I said I’ll go. So. Yeah, I don’t back out on my word. You of all people should know?”

And Seongwoo laughs, because he does. It’s weird. The relationship they have with each other. As his assistant he knows so _much_ but also so _little_ about Minhyun at the same time. He wonders how much Minhyun knows about him.

“I guess that’s true,” he says. “If you, I don’t know, ever need the same. Any of your friends get all up on your business and demand to meet your fake fiancé. I’d be happy to pretend for you, as well.”

He cracks a smile, his peace offering to light up the mood.

“I don’t think that would really be necessary,” Minhyun says quietly. “But thank you for the offer. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Seongwoo nods, before pulling open the door to get back to his desk, the words _Executive Assistant_ on his nameplate staring back at him.


	3. pieces of you & me

They decide to meet at Seoul station despite the fact that they’re technically coming from the same place. But Seongwoo’s a great procrastinator and hasn’t even packed his weekend bag yet, and Minhyun says that he too, needs to stop by his house, so they agree to meet at 3:00 at Seoul station for their 3:30 KTX train. After Seongwoo changes out of his suit into comfier clothes, he sighs again before changing out of the sweats he intended to wear, and puts on a pair of skinny jeans instead.

Whenever he went Busan to visit Sungwoon and Daniel, though the two hour train ride not completely bad, he always valued comfort, and wore his baggiest clothing. Thinking about Minhyun seeing him in sweats though, made his skin itch, and he dejectedly decided on skinny jeans and a leather jacket, instead knowing full well he’d regret it about thirty minutes into the train car ride.

His phone rings its usual _katalk!_ noise, and he looks down at it in the middle of stuffing his duffel bag.

**b _etter park #1_**

****_minhyun_ coming to the  
wedding???

 

 ****_**mediocre** **park** # **2**_  
  
danieltold us  
they’re really excited

**_better park #1_**

tbh we are too… feels like  
we’re going to be meeting minhyun for the first time…. out of his element…..

**_god seongwoo_ **

minhyun was /COERCED/ to come  
let that be known  
you guys know sungwoon

**_mediocre park #2  
_**

we do

 

**_better park #1  
_ **

we do :/

**_god seongwoo_ **

anyway when r u guys coming down?  
minhyun & I r taking the train this afternoon

**_mediocre park #2  
_**

waow ;) together ;)

**_god seongwoo_ **

literally we’re engaged

**_mediocre park #2  
_**

WAOW ;)TOGETHER ;)

 

**_better park #1_ **

we’re gonna go later  
after we get off work  
so prob gonna arrive to the party later late  
some of us :/ don't just get half days so easily :/ bc theyre dating :/ their boss :/

**_god seongwoo_ **

i hat eyou  
but  
see u soon  
be safe I guess…

**_better park #1  
_**

aw miss us alr hyung?  
its only been like 2 hours  
ily

**_god seongwoo  
_ **

Read  ✓ 2:15pm

**_better park #1_ **

ok wow thnx

 

 

 

 

It’s not that Minhyun looks bad in normal, everyday, _non-suit_ outfits. In fact, it’s the opposite. (Is this even considered an _everyday outfit?_ He really feels way underdressed in the outfit he spent about an hour deciding on.) It’s just _so much._

He spots Minhyun before Minhyun spots him, and it takes him a moment to stare at how Minhyun looks waiting by himself in the middle of Seoul station, Louis Vuitton black duffel bag on the floor by his feet, posture straight as he furrows his eyebrows at his phone. It’s different from what he’s used to, he’s only ever seen Minhyun wearing a sleek suit, but even in this outfit, he looks, so _handsome._ A dark navy polo stuck into some nice trousers, trainers on his feet. Everything so fitting that you can see the outlines of his lanky body. Hi _tiny waist._

Seongwoo gulps, and is deciding if it’s too late to run back home and change quickly into his sexiest, _I’m going out clubbing and wanna get laid_ outfit, put on his dangly earrings for _extra_ effect, when Minhyun looks up from his phone and spots him. He’s almost hoping Minhyun doesn’t see him, but a small smile forms on Minhyun’s face in recognition, and Seongwoo weakly lifts a hand to wave at him.

“Hey,” Minhyun smiles at him as Seongwoo approaches. “Right on time.”

“You look…” Seongwoo tries to find the right words to properly explain just how much he’s feeling at that moment. “…different.”

Is what he settles on.

Minhyun’s face falls slightly. “Uh, thanks?”  
  
“I mean, it’s not a bad thing,” Seongwoo reassures quickly. “I’m just,” an awkward laugh. “Not really used to you not in your suit, you know. But you look, like. Good. Yeah. You look good.”

He feels absolutely mortified as soon as it comes out of his mouth, and _did he just basically call his boss, indirectly, hot?_ and he’s already scrambling to explain himself further, but the excuses die in his throat as Minhyun throws him a wide smile. He really hasn’t seen Minhyun smile like this, almost _shy._

“Oh. Thanks. That’s… really nice, Seongwoo. You don’t look too bad yourself,” he says brightly.

“Okay… well, uh. Are you ready?” Seongwoo says, and he adjusts his bag again on his shoulder. “I, uh, stopped by the convenience store for some snacks on the way. Not sure what you liked so I just got a bunch of different triangle kimbap. And tea. For you.”

He starts walking ahead towards their train platform, and Minhyun grabs his duffel bag and hurries to keep up.

“Oh,” Minhyun looks at him in surprise. “Thanks. I, uh, actually have a surprise for you too.”

Seongwoo stops, and turns to look at Minhyun. “Surprise?”

Minhyun nods. 

“Not another extravagant surprise involving supposed life-long commitments that should be with someone you love, I hope?” 

Minhyun frowns. “Hey! And no… it’s not _.”_

Seongwoo throws back a laugh. “So what is it?”

Minhyun holds up two pieces of paper. “I mean, it’s not much. But I upgraded our seats a little bit ago. First class on the train.”

Seongwoo’s eyes widen. “Oh. I mean, you didn’t have to? That means you paid for my ticket, too? Oh, I’ll pay you back—“

Minhyun shakes his head and laughs a little. “This is literally nothing compared to what I’m making you do. It’s fine, Seongwoo. This is literally the _bare minimum,_ that I can do. Besides,” he shrugs. “First class KTX is basically nothing anyway.”

“Ah,” Seongwoo says, and because he doesn’t know how else to respond, “Thank you.”

Minhyun doesn’t say anything in return, just smiles.

 

 

The train ride to Busan is shorter than he remembers, and it’s not sure if it’s because he falls asleep so comfortably in his seat or if it’s because he hasn’t left Seoul in so long that his memory is starting to fade.

(Minhyun lied. Though it’s not some first class airplane seat, the leg room in front of him is so spacious that he can probably fit like, four of him — he tried to insert himself on the floor to test it out, but Minhyun laughed, then _pinched_ him, and told him to stop being embarrassing — the wider seats are more comfortable than his own bed, and Minhyun.  _Minhyun._ Not even twenty minutes into the ride does he fall asleep on Minhyun’s shoulder, and though it’s not like his shoulder is the softest pillow in the world, something about how his head slots in perfectly against it, and the warmth that Minhyun radiates makes him feel safe and content.)

He wakes up to Minhyun shaking him softly, a quiet _we’re here_ into his ear. He opens his eyes sleepily, before realising that sometime into the two hour ride, his hands found themselves clutching tightly into Minhyun’s shirt, his head fallen down to rest right into Minhyun’s chest.

“Oh god,” Seongwoo almost yelps, moving away from Minhyun quickly. “I am _so sorry_ about that. ‘M kind of a snuggler.”

He sees in front of him, on the tiny makeshift train table a manuscript filled with post-it notes. Glasses sit on Minhyun’s nose.

Minhyun laughs, and it still surprises Seongwoo so much that this Minhyun, my-job-is-my-life Minhyun, can be this bright.

(Not necessarily bright, but something about him seems so much more open than Seongwoo usually gets to see.)

“It’s fine,” Minhyun shrugs. “I didn’t really mind. I was just reading a manuscript.”

Something in Seongwoo’s stomach flutters, and he taps his fingers against his thighs to calm himself down. The train is still moving, but at a much slower pace, almost moving to a stop. 

“Weren’t we supposed to figure out this fake dating— marriage— _thing,_ on the train?” Seongwoo yawns. 

“I’m not the one who fell asleep?”

Seongwoo rolls his eyes. “Anyway, it’s okay, I know. Like. Everything. About everything I need to know about you. I think the problem is you knowing things about me?”

“Hey,” Minhyun protests. “You don’t know — _everything_ about _everything_ about me?”

“Yeah I do, it’s how I keep my job,” Seongwoo laughs dishearteningly. “I know you like tea instead of coffee, so I also get tea as my drink. In case I spill yours. I prefer americanos, though. Iced. But anyway, I know that you chew down your nails whenever you’re stressed, and you’re _always_ stressed, so your nails are always worn down. I know that you used to have ear piercings but now they’ve closed up because they’re really faint, but sometimes when I’m close enough, I can see the little scar where it used to be.”

Seongwoo pushes his face forward and points at the tiny little mark on Minhyun’s earlobe, and Minhyun’s breath hitches.

“I know you don’t like blue shirts in the work office. I know that you’re not as scary as everyone makes you out to be, and you just care a lot about your job,” Seongwoo finishes, voice quieter than before. 

“Blue shirts?” Minhyun furrows his brows in confusion. “What do you mean I don’t like blue shirts at the office?”

Seongwoo mirrors his confusion. “You don’t like it when your assistants wear blue shirts. Since it’s unprofessional?”

“What? I never said that?”

“But,” Seongwoo says, plainly. “That’s why you fired your other assistants.”

Minhyun frowns. “Do people really think I’m that crazy to not allow blue shirts at the office? I fired them because they were incompetent.”

“Oh. Well.” Because now Seongwoo is very confused, and now everything he’s ever known (not really, but who is he without the dramatics.) about Minhyun is wrong. “And I’m not?”

He grins.

Minhyun rolls his eyes and looks out the window. “Kind of pushing it.”

Seongwoo apologizes quickly, remembering at the end of the day, Minhyun was his _boss._

“Scary? Do people really think I’m that scary?”

Seongwoo gives him a look. “I mean… Before me, you had so many different assistants— (“They were incompetent,” Minhyun interjects, again.) and you never really smile, and you’re always reprimanding people,” Minhyun is about to interrupt again, but Seongwoo raises his hand. “For being _incompetent, I know,_ and you never really attend and company bonding things and just. You’re kind of intimidating.”

Minhyun looks at him carefully throughout Seongwoo’s rambling, and he feels heat rise to his cheeks as he realizes he’s confessed it all to Minhyun’s face. 

“Is that what you think of me, too?” Minhyun searches his eyes, and Seongwoo looks away as he shifts uncomfortable in his seat.

“Well,” a shrug. “I know you’re not as scary as everyone thinks. But. You still make me nervous. I mean, we’re the same age, and look how much you’ve accomplished. You’ve gone so far in your career.”

A confession.

Minhyun doesn’t respond, doesn’t move, and Seongwoo’s too nervous to really look at him, so he focuses on picking at his nails.

“But anyway. This isn’t time for office gossip about you,” he announces. “This is about us! Our fake relationship. How did we get together?”

The tension between them is broken at that, and Minhyun hums in response. “You fell hopelessly in love with me, and you were pining after me, _your boss,_ and even though I kept trying to reject you, since you are my assistant, we fell in love?”

Seongwoo snaps his head up and finds Minhyun grinning at him. “Haha. Very Funny. May I just remind you that you’re the one in need here?”

Minhyun laughs. “Okay, then what do you suggest?”

 

 

 

Seongwoo and Minhyun don’t expect to get picked up from the train station, so when he hears a loud, “ _Seongwoo hyung!”_ amidst the bustling station, he quickly stops in his tracks as his face pales.

“Minhyun,” he whispers quietly, and Minhyun looks at him alarmingly.

“What? _What?”_ Minhyun says urgently, and all Seongwoo could do is send him an apologetic look before he spots where the noise is coming from.

Daniel and Sungwoon push past a crowd of high school students in uniforms, hands clasped tightly together. Daniel is the one calling out his name, as he carries the biggest grin on his face. Sungwoon, considerably shorter next to him, is waving wildly, and in less than ten seconds, they’re barreling into Seongwoo, arms clasped tightly around him.

Seongwoo stays frozen, shocked for a second. He can’t really breathe stuck between Daniel’s wider-than-a-soccer-field shoulders, and Sungwoon’s strong grip on him, but he laughs and throws his arms around them in return. Because at the end of the day, though they’re both pain in the asses, and Sungwoon is a scary hyung, and Daniel is just a huge puppy that is can turn into a scary puppy when they’re gaming, and Sungwoon and Daniel together is a messy, but match made in heaven, they are his best friends, and they, the _trio_ , are back together again.

“I missed you guys, too!” he says happily, his muffled voice under their bodies. He gives them a squeeze.

“It’s been long, hasn’t it?” Sungwoon says, grinning when they pull away. It doesn’t take long for his hands to find Daniel’s again. “You never have time to visit!”

“Ah,” he says, and it’s then he remembers that Minhyun is with him. 

Minhyun is off to the side of them, a look of shock and surprise on his face, a polite smile on his face. He pulls Minhyun and wraps is arm around Minhyun’s waist. Minhyun makes a strangled noise in surprise. “It’s because this one has been working me to the bone.”

Minhyun gives the pair and awkward grin, as Daniel and Sungwoon smile at him, happily. 

“Hi, I’m Minhyun. Sorry about not giving him enough time off,” he responds sheepishly, holding out his hand. “It’s really nice to meet you guys. And thank you for inviting me.”

Sungwoon looks at Minhyun’s hand briefly, before pushing forward and giving Minhyun a tight hug. Seongwoo sees Minhyun’s eyes widen as he slowly wraps his arms around Sungwoon’s.

“Don’t be silly, thank you for coming!” Sungwoon cheerily says. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. I didn’t know you were so handsome. Maybe that’s why Seongwoo’s been hiding you away all this time.”

“Hyung,” Seongwoo lets out a whine. Minhyun’s not even meeting his real parents, yet it feels like Minhyun just did.

Daniel lets out a laugh. “Hi, I’m Daniel,” he says, also leaning over to give Minhyun a hug. “It’s really nice to meet you. Sorry for Sungwoon-hyung. I know he can be kind of overbearing.”

_Ah, huggers,_ Minhyun quietly mutters — a comment only Seongwoo hears. Seongwoo snorts, sending another apologetic look in his direction.

“Is that something you should be saying about someone who is marrying you in two days?” Sungwoon says to Daniel, pinching him on the arm. 

“Ah, congratulations on your marriage,” Minhyun adds. “I’m really happy for you two.”

“Please don’t say that to me yet — I still have two days to run away. Don’t ruin that for me,” Sungwoon comments drily, as he starts pulling Daniel along towards the exit. Minhyun and Seongwoo start to follow.

Minhyun looks surprised at the comment and turns to look at Daniel who catches his eye. Daniel laughs and waves it off.

“He threatens to leave me at the altar, like, four times a day. This is the third one already today,” Daniel grins.

“Ah,” Minhyun says, as if he understood (which he definitely didn’t).

“So what’s up with you guys picking us up? Didn’t know you guys were going to come,” Seongwoo says instead.

Daniel hums. “We weren’t planning to, but this one here,” a thumb pointed towards Sungwoon. “Was really excited to meet your fiance. Something about _I can’t believe our Seongwoo finally found love. Daniel, who would have thought?”_

“I mean, _really,_ who would have thought?” Sungwoon explains, leading them to their car and helping Seongwoo and Minhyun with their bags. “Ong Seongwoo who’s been single ever since the great sophomore year heartbreak. I just had to know who would willingly marrying you?”

They climb into the backseat, as Daniel and Sungwoon settle into the front of the car, Daniel in the driver’s seat. Minhyun snorts, and Seongwoo twists his leg to kick him in the narrow space. Bringing back the year Eunwoo quite literally broke his heart for life was a low blow, Seongwoo thinks.

“ _Minhyun_ literally begged to marry me, I’ll have you know,” Seongwoo deadpans — which, wasn’t really far from the truth, if they were all being honest.

Minhyun frowns, but instead says, “It’s true. Seongwoo… is special,”is what he settles on, a polite, sweet tone contrasting from his frown aimed at the sore spot on his leg.

By the time they had settled on a surface story of them getting together (late nights at the office, lingering looks, genuine care for each other) and their proposal story (Minhyun had proposed; they were doing work at his apartment one night, over late-night takeout, and Minhyun had just looked at Seongwoo and knew. Knew he wanted a forever with him, and proposed right then and there, with not even a ring ready — Seongwoo’s idea, considering they didn’t even have a ring) the train had pulled up to the station, and they were being ushered out quickly. 

They didn’t really discuss how far their affections would go, how much they’d have to keep the act up, but _surely_ it wouldn’t be that hard, _right_? Pretend to be in love, that seemed simple enough.

“So,” Sungwoon starts looking out the window. “I know the original plan was that Seongwoo was going to stay over at the extra room in mine and Daniel’s house.”

“Yep,” Seongwoo responds, popping the ‘p’, “No worries. We booked Minhyun at a hotel.”

“Ah, that’s actually the thing I was going to talk about,” Sungwoon responds, turning to look at them, happily. “I kind of knew you would do that. So I went ahead and canceled it.”

“You _what?”_

“Oh please,” Sungwoon babbles. “What kind of person would I be if I let you stay in our house but not your fiancé, Seongwoo?”

“How did you even find our booking?” Seongwoo accuses.

“As I was saying,” Sungwoon avoids the question. “Why wouldn’t he stay in our house? He’s family now!”

“I mean,” Minhyun pipes up, wanting to avoid any conflict. “I think it’s okay, no worries.”

“It’s not?” Seongwoo turns to look at him, confused.

“See Seongwooo, no big deal,” Sungwoon responds, waggling his eyebrows. “And anyway, you guys can share a room. It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, we’re sharing a room?” Minhyun says quietly, to Seongwoo.

“Hyung,” Seongwoo starts, looking towards Sungwoon. Sighs, pulling at his ear, a habit he’s had since he was younger whenever he got stressed. “It’s not that. I just. Don’t want Hyunnie to be uncomfortable.”

_Hyunnie._ The nickname rolls of his tongue so quickly, so _easily,_ that it surprises even himself when it comes out of his mouth. It’s so natural that something feels heavy in Seongwoo’s chest, and he’s not quite sure what the feeling is. Minhyun looks at him, eyes wide. 

“Why would he be uncomfortable? Because he has to sleep over someone else’s house for a bit? He won’t mind. You won’t mind, right, _Hyunnie?”_ Sungwoon says mischievously, and he makes eye contact with Minhyun in the rearview mirror.

Minhyun responds with a cough, choking slightly.

“Um, yeah. No worries. It’s fine, I guess,” he turns to Seongwoo. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. _Babe.”_

He adds last, like an afterthought. He looks at Seongwoo with curiosity in his eyes, and Seongwoo has to look away, and out the window to stop from turning red all over. 

Daniel reaches over to pinch Sungwoon’s hand, a silent _stop teasing them._ A grin is settled on his face as he keeps driving,Sungwoon yelps, pinching back, and it’s a game of silent hand war before Daniel finally manages to capture Sungwoon’s hand in his, resting them in the center console.

Seongwoo can’t help but look at the interaction, silent jealously, silent happiness, silent longing.

“Jihoon and Woojin are coming down later tonight,” Seongwoo offers up, anything to sidetrack the sudden ache in his chest as he looks at his and Minhyun’s separated hands, resting in the middle seat between them.

“Ah I know. Can’t wait to beat Jihoon’s ass,” Daniel says casually. “He made us lose a ranked game last night.”

“There will be no beating his ass,” Sungwoon scolds. “At least not until after the wedding. I will not be having any groomsmen with a black eye.”

“Ranked game?” Minhyun echoes.

“Overwatch?” Daniel responds, looking at Minhyun. 

“Sorry?”

“You don’t know Overwatch?” A frown.

They turn to look at Minhyun — sans Daniel, who resolves to looking at him through the rearview mirror. Minhyun responds to them with a blank stare.

“It’s a computer game,” Seongwoo explains.

“Ah,” understanding floods Minhyun’s face. “Sorry. I don’t really know of any games. I don’t play any.”

They all look at him in shock. “None? Not even in university?”

Minhyun shrugs. 

“I guess that’s how you made it this far in your career then; at your age,” Seongwoo says casually before he truly comprehends the comment he made. His eyes widen a bit after that, slight panic that he’s overstepped his boundaries, but Minhyun just shrugs and smiles. “I didn’t mean to overstep—“

“It’s true, all I did was read and study,” Minhyun interrupts, because Seongwoo’s apology is filled with a type of uncomfortable, polite aura that you give off when you don’t know someone, and they’re supposed to be _engaged._

“And I admire you for that,” Sungwoon pipes up. “Look at my future husband over here. So close to getting fired because he wakes up late due to gaming all night.”

Daniel frowns. “I own my own restaurant.”

Sungwoon nods. “We’re _co_ - _owners_. This is me trying to tell you I am so close to firing you for being late all the time.”

Daniel pouts and Sungwoon leans over to peck him on the cheek. Daniel’s grin returns quickly, and Minhyun turns away, feeling like it’s an intimate moment he shouldn’t be watching.

“I didn’t know Woojin and Jihoon were going to come down,” he comments, and Seongwoo looks at him in surprise.

“You know who they are?”

Minhyun’s brow furrows. “Should I not? They work under me.”

“No it’s just,” Seongwoo shakes his head. “I didn’t know you knew everyone.”

“I know everyone who works under me,” Minhyun says firmly, as if it’s something he believes strongly about. “I keep up with everyone.”

“I’m sorry,” Seongwoo says, _for not assuming much._

“You really haven’t met Woojin or Jihoon? None of Seongwoo’s friends?” Sungwoon asks casually.

And even if it’s all fake, Minhyun blushes. “We were really trying to keep this a secret.”

Sungwoon eyes the way the two of them are sitting at polar opposites of the car, as if going near each other wasn’t allowed.

“I didn’t know Woojin and Jihoon knew you guys too,” Minhyun says, conversationally, still staring out the window as they pass through Busan. Something about the place is familiar to him, but clouded. He hasn’t been here since he moved to America. “I thought you guys were Seongwoo’s uni friends?”

Daniel shrugs. “He introduced us and we all became quite close.”

“Ah.”

 

 

When they arrive at Daniel and Sungwoon’s house, Minhyun stares up in awe. 

“What kind of restaurant do they own, a 3-star Michelin restaurant?” He mumbles to Seongwoo,clutching his duffel bag to his chest, and staring at the wide beige two story house, containing multiple open windows, and complete with a beautiful front rose garden with a fountain in the front. “Who are you _friends_ with?”

It wasn’t mansion size big, but it gave off the feeling of _almost_ , and considering the area around them, he knew it must’ve been worth a lot. It amazed him that despite the grandeur of things, it still seemed homey, and so completely, Sungwoon and Daniel.

Seongwoo laughs. “Sungwoon’s family is pretty well off. Not Michelin star-ed, but his family’s restaurants always do amazing. It was pretty much fate that he met and fell in love with Daniel, who aspired to be a chef.”

“They met in university, too?”

Seongwoo hums. Daniel and Sungwoon have already gone off somewhere into the house, talking amongst themselves urgently over something on the wedding menu. Minhyun hears their voice like they’re a faraway echo. Seongwoo walks in the hallways like it’s his own home, and after toeing off his shoes by the front door, he follows.

“Yeah. All three of us,” Seongwoo comments. “They danced around each other for a long time. Daniel was taking accounting. His dream was to be a chef, though. Sungwoon was like me. A literature major.”

“What does he do now, then? Editor, too?”

Seongwoo laughs, because despite being a literature major, Sungwoon didn’t like to read. “It was more to piss off his parents — getting a degree in a completely useless course that wouldn’t help him in his future of taking over the restaurants. No, hyung's dream was to be a dancer. He has his own academy around here. His dad let him open one up after Daniel and Sungwoon got engaged and he knew there would be someone to take over the family business. Daniel’s like Mr. Ha’s long-lost son. Daniel has a business degree and is a chef? A perfect match for Sungwoon in all aspects.” He chuckles. “Literally no one can object to their marriage, everything kind of fell into place for them.”

“What a fairytale then,” Minhyun comments, and something about his tone makes Seongwoo’s skin itch.

Seongwoo shrugs. “Not a fairytale — just true love.”

“Isn’t true love just another fairytale?” Minhyun hums, as they walk up the stairs. The marble stone beneath his feet, make his toes tingle, despite his socks. Though grand, Sungwoon and Daniel keep the place decorated with memorabilia everywhere, their walls covered in paintings and pictures of their loved ones. Seongwoo is in almost all of them, Minhyun notices.

“True love is real,” Seongwoo frowns. “Fairytales are not.”

Minhyun makes a face in responds to that, and Seongwoo feels more defensive of his own feelings regarding true love and Minhyun’s aversion to it, rather than Sungwoon and Daniel. He knows Minhyun doesn’t mean in in particular to them.

He thinks it’s funny. He’s been hurt enough times in his life over heartbreak (the great heartbreak of sophomore year, _or Eunwoo,_ as others would say, was the last of them), but still, despite all of that, he still held on to the idea that there was true love waiting for him.

They’ve already walked up the stairs and are almost to their bedroom, the one he always stays at when he visits Sungwoon and Daniel, when he stops and turns around to look at Minhyun. Minhyun looks up at him in surprise, tilting forward as if he was almost going to run into Seongwoo.

“You don’t believe in true love?” Seongwoo asks, and it comes out more hurt than accusatory as he intended.

Minhyun shrugs. “I’m a realist.”

“That’s what people who are super negative about everything calls themselves,” Seongwoo all but whines, irritation evident in his tone.

Minhyun sighs, and his face is contorted into something that Seongwoo is all too familiar with. It’s the face he makes when he’s discussing important business details. Aloof and closed off. Matter of fact.

“Look. I just don’t think there’s such a thing as ‘true’ love, okay? Don’t think there’s a one person that you belong to. That you were fated to be with. That can understand you. The less people spend time trying to find ‘the one’ the more time they could spend on —More Productive Things,” Minhyun pauses. “I’m not doubting that Sungwoon and Daniel love each other, and that they’ll live a great and long, happy life together. They look very much in love. Maybe they’re the closest thing to true love that there is. But _soulmates_?”

And Seongwoo could spend the time arguing with him still. Telling him that, _isn’t it nice to believe that someone, the higher ups —_ _fate_ _played a hand at making sure that you will always be loved? That you will never be alone? That there is someone out there who is destined to love and make a home in you?_ But a look at Minhyun, and he can tell that he’s back to being closed off, something about the question making him tick, and it seems like all the friendliness that was laid out on the table on the way to Busan had flown away. The conversation had put a sense of discomfort in Minhyun, and tension between them.

He sighs, and just turns around to keep walking towards their bedroom. The quietness between allows only for Minhyun’s following footsteps to be a sign of him still being behind Seongwoo.

“I can take the couch,” Seongwoo says as they walk in, setting his bag on the leather couch pushed against the wall, opposite to the huge windows that overlook the backyard. “You can take the bed.”

He doesn’t make eye contact with Minhyun, still upset. Minhyun doesn’t try to argue with him, just nods, and sets his duffel bag down on the floor, next to the nightstand. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to use the bathroom?”

Seongwoo nods, and turns to face towards him, pointing towards another door. “Bathroom is there.”

Minhyun just sighs, and disappears into the bathroom.

 

 

 

 

Seongwoo’s not really sure why it bothers him so much that Minhyun doesn’t believe in love. He’s not the type to get upset and angry at people with differing opinions, especially something in regards to something like love.

But maybe it’s the fact that he truly believed Minhyun was different from what everyone assumed. Different in the sense that he wasn’t as mysterious as everyone talked about, not as cold-hearted as everyone believes, not someone with no sense of warmth in him, not someone who only cared about work and being better at work.

For some reason, in between the late nights, when he finds Minhyun curled up on the couch in the office, reading a manuscript of a new romance book they’re about to release, or a poetry book about chest-aching love, or when he goes and tells Jisung that his whole team, everyone on his floor is doing a wonderful job, or when he anonymously dropped in three hundred thousand won in Guanlin’s shared birthday present fund box, Seongwoo always believed there was more to Minhyun than the cold-hearted boss he allowed himself to be seen as.

He wonders if its something he convinced himself to believe — the warmth. He wonders if he’s so desperate to make it true, that he’s imagined the warmth he thought Minhyun posessed.

 

 

 

 

 

Seongwoo makes his way downstairs into the kitchen, and is pleasantly surprised when he finds trays and trays of finger food laid out on every surface. He finds Daniel amidst all of them, an apron over his body, and a wonky looking chef hat on his head.

“Finger food,” he says plainly, grabbing one that looks oddly like a flower in a bread pastry off its tray and popping it into his mouth. “What’s the occasion?”

His face lights up as a he tastes a hint of smoked salmon.

“They’re _hors d’ouevres,”_ Daniel says, rolling his eyes, but Seongwoo smirks as Daniel trips over the word.“And stop eating them. They’re for the rehearsal dinner, party, _thing_ tonight.”

“Need some help?”

Seongwoo reaches over to grab another apron hanging by the wall but Daniel reaches over to kick him in the shin. Seongwoo yelps. “Step _away_ from the kitchen, Ong.”

The hand he has clutching the fabric of the apron lets go of it quickly, and though his shin stings, he laughs and throws up his hand in surrender. Daniel is facing him with a butter knife as a threatening weapon, paired with a grin and narrowed eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Seongwoo laughs. “I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah last time you tried to help, _with ramen, in case you forgot,_ we had to get a new stove,” Daniel mutters.

“Alright, fine. You win. Or whatever. I’ll take my leave,” Seongwoo announces, bowing dramatically by the door of the kitchen. “You know where to find me.”

“The party’s at seven! Be ready by then!” Daniel calls. “And tell Minhyun!”

 

 

 

 

The first week he had working for Cho and Park publishing, he had gotten off of work on a Friday night and bought a ticket for the last train to Busan. He showed up at Sungwoon and Daniel’s front porch at one a.m in the morning, exhausted look in his eyes, in a ruffled up suit. Sungwoon and Daniel didn’t say anything, just let him in with a hug, and settled him with a cup of tea.

Though the exhaustion was catching up to him, he stayed awake the whole night sitting in their garden, between the different colored roses, looking up at the stars.

 

The exhaustion of the job had hit him like a train, and everything about what he expected the job to be was nothing like it actually was.

Books were always magical to him. Ever since he learned how to read. The way you could get lost in a story, the way in every book you read you could forget all the bad you felt, all the bad you experienced. He had always wanted to be part of the process. The process of finding _the_ story, and giving the joy of letting thousands of others read it too.

Working as _Executive Assistant_ of Hwang Minhyun was not that. It was getting tea, filtering calls, rewriting Minhyun’s notes to be more legible, answering to Minhyun’s calls of photocopying thousand page manuscripts. It was answering Minhyun’s midnight calls about his sudden burst of ideas about this person and this person’s book, and staying in the office until nineto bring Minhyun dinner and finish the work he wasn’t able to finish due to running around all day.

Seongwoo laid down on the soft grass, next to the white rose shrubs and stared up at the sky — wondering if he made the right choice, taking the job. He could be at a different publishing company, one that appreciated what he could actually offer.

At the end, he had stayed. He stayed and it was thanks to the comfort the garden and the moon, and the stars, all gave him.

 

 

“I’ve always wondered what it was about you and this garden.”

Seongwoo doesn’t flinch, and continues to stare at the bright sun in his face, — wrinkling his nose trying to resist sneezing. There are paper mache decorations hanging around the garden this time around, and fairy lights hanging everywhere. It’s even prettier. The sunlight reflects off the lightbulbs.

He shrugs. “Comforting.” 

He ends up sneezing three times anyway, a habit he has when he stares at the sun for too long.

“I would think that a bed, or something, would be a lot comfier,” Sungwoon remarks, but lays down on the grass next to Seongwoo anyway.

“How’s the wedding planning going?”

Sungwoon shrugs. “Dad’s running himself to the floor with catering, and my mom along with Daniel’s mom can’t stop fussing over the _flower arrangements._ Do you really think people care that much about which flower greets them at the entrance?”

Seongwoo laughs. “But how about you? How are you feeling?”

He feels Sungwoon’s shoulder move against his as he shrugs. “Marrying my best friend in two days. I’m doing just fine.”

“ _Just_ fine? I’m telling Daniel you feel this momentous celebration is just _fine.”_

Seongwoo earns a sideways kick.

“I don’t know,” Sungwoon shrugs. “Like, I _know_ it’s a big deal, but it isn’t, not really, to me anyway. I’ve always known I was going to marry Daniel. Since I met him. Sure, we’ve had our arguments, and we’ve come close to breaking up, _many_ times, but.”

“But he was always the one,” Seongwoo finishes for him. Sungwoon nods.

“Yeah, he was always the one. I knew we’d find our way back to each other, you know? So, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll be having my forever with him. All of this,” he gestures to the decorated garden. “Is more for everyone else. Like, a, hey world, this is my _husband_ now.”

Seongwoo nods, exhaling. “God, am I excited for that open bar.”

Sungwoon laughs. “If you get drunk and ruin my wedding, Ong Seongwoo—“

“Of _course_ not, my dear Woonie,” Seongwoo grins. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Sungwoon sniffs. “Good.”

Seongwoo hums. The sky is completely clear, the smell of the sea mixed in with the wind.

“Something wrong?” Sungwoon asks, and he turns his head against the grass to look at Seongwoo strangely.

Seongwoo shrugs.

“Lover’s quarrel?”

Seongwoo shrugs again. “Kind of? Difference in opinion.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“You know, I really am surprised about this whole thing. Being engaged to him and all.”

“I know, I am, too,” Seongwoo admits, laughing. “It’s, um, odd. That I’m engaged.”

_Its odd that I agreed to it. It’s odd because I feel like I’m dreaming. It’s odd because my boss is here meeting the most important people in my life. It’s odd because none of this is real._

“No engagement ring?” Sungwoon asks, and he quickly sits up to peer over at Seongwoo’s hands, playing with the grass.

“Nope,” Seongwoo pops the p. “It really was all too quick. Minhyun just kind of, blurted it out. One night. And then I, even to my own surprise, said yes.” He’s rambling a bit now. “We’re uh, not going to plan the wedding for awhile, though. We’re both too busy and all.”

_Busy, and because it’s never going to come. Not really._ is what falls short against his lips, and it aches a bit not to tell Sungwoon everything.

He and Minhyun agreed not to tell anyone, to _minimize_ casualties. He knows Sungwoon wouldn’t tell anyone, except maybe Daniel, and he knows Daniel wouldn’t say anything, but still. Something stops him from telling Sungwoon.

“That’s… really cute, actually,” Sungwoon says, and surprise echoes in every word. “Are you happy? Though?”

Something about the question sounds like Sungwoon knows more than he lets on, but Seongwoo pushes it away. How does he answer that? _Sure, yeah I’m happy. I’m happy even if somehow this feels way bigger than I’m trying to make it sound like it is. Yeah, sure, I’m happy, even if this guy I’ve known for years, this guy who’s schedule I know down to when he takes a shower, is someone I really don’t know at all. Yeah, sure, I’m happy. Even if I don’t know what I’m doing._

Seongwoo smiles instead. “Of course I’m happy. I found the best person to share my life with.”

Sungwoon laughs in return. “Never stopped being cheesy, did you. Cheesy ass bitch.”

“You literally said something about how Daniel was _your person_ and you knew it since the minute you met him?”

And then Sungwoon laughs again, because it’s true and there’s nothing else to say to that, and they both know it’s all fun and games because they both know more than anyone the amount of love each have in their hearts.

 

 

 

Minhyun finds him lying in the same position that Sungwoon does, long after Sungwoon has left Seongwoo to his own devices.

“Uh,” Minhyun says, quietly— awkwardly. He stays standing, but peers over at Seongwoo. Seongwoo opens his eyes, after feeling Minhyun’s shadow over his, despite his closed eyes and the moon glowing dimly tonight. “Daniel told me that there’s a party soon. So I came to get you.”

Seongwoo groans. “What time is it?”

“Six. I think people are going to start coming soon.”

Seongwoo plants his hands beside him to prop himself up, and he groans as he hears his back crack. Minhyun makes a face at the noise, and offers a hand.

“Your back sounds…”

Seongwoo raises his eyebrows, but grabs onto Minhyun’s hand anyway. “Careful with what you’re about to say, Hwang.”

“Sounds like a saltine cracker, to be honest.”

Seongwoo makes a noise of protest as he plants his foot to the ground. When he’s firmly on the ground, he lets go of Minhyun’s hands to wipe away the grass stuck on his ass. He feels kind of silly that he misses Minhyun’s warm hands so soon.

Minhyun’s changed into a baby blue button down and loose black pants for the occasion, a pair of, Seongwoo squints, _is that white converse?,_ he thinks _,_ on his feet.

“I was supposed to tell you that there’s going to be a party,” Seongwoo comments. “Sorry.”

Minhyun waves it off. “Ran into Daniel. Helped him with his pastries and he told me. No worries.”

Seongwoo looks at him in surprise. “You know how to cook?”

“Uh. No,” Minhyun says slowly. “Just followed his directions.”

“Ah,” Seongwoo replies, and he smiles as he notices Minhyun entrancingly touch the roses gently as they pass by. “They don’t let me near the kitchen anymore after I’ve tried to help once and I set the kitchen on fire.”

Minhyun stops looking at the roses to look up at him in surprise. “What were you cooking?”

“I was helping him make ramen,” Seongwoo says sheepishly.

“Like, the instant kind?”

Seongwoo nods, and Minhyun snorts loudly. “Good thing you’re not that clumsy at the office.”

“Though, you did spill your drink on your shirt.” Minhyun laughs. “And thought I fired people because they wore blue shirts?”

“When are you going to let that go,” Seongwoo deadpans, picking up the pace as a sign of annoyance. “Thinking about it reminds me of blue-shirt gate and thinking I was almost going to get fired. It gives me post-war flashbacks.”

“Oh come on,” Minhyun hurries to catch up to him, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You didn’t actually think I was so heartless and crazy, I fired people over _shirt colors,_ did you? Me, who is so kind?” 

Seongwoo rolls his eyes, as Minhyun jumps forward, just in time to open the glass back-door for them to enter the house again, as if to prove his point. Minhyungrins at him, one arm behind his back, while the other clutches the door handle. He dramatically bows, acting as if he’s a butler to open the door.

“After you.”

Seongwoos shoots him a look but step through the door anyway, muttering a _thanks._ He still feels weird about the banter between them, far used to calling him things like, _boss_ or _sir_ and never quite looking at him in the eyes. To see Minhyun grinning at him, joking around with him gives him a weird reminder that at the end of the day, Minhyun is just a regular person, further than the office gossip that goes around about his robotic personality.

"Listen about earlier,” Minhyun says from behind him. “I didn’t mean to make it weird or make you upset or anything.”

Seongwoo doesn’t look at him, but shakes his head in response. “No, it’s okay. I was just. Overreacting and stuff.”

“Yeah, but still. Should apologize. Right thing to do and all.”

Seongwoo hums. “You know, in all the years I’ve known you, this is the first time you’ve apologized to me for anything.”

“Well, I’ve had no reason to apologize to you until now?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can easily name like ten times you’ve been mean to me that I deserved an apology for.” There’s a whine to his voice.

Minhyun snorted. “Seem to forget that I was—I _am,_ your boss, Seongwoo.”

“Easy to forget in this situation.”

Minhyun’s expression, to Seongwoo’s surprise, immediately changes, and guilt and uneasiness flood his face.

“I’m sorry. For this,” he says, and it’s the first time Minhyun has shown guilt for the situation, _this,_ situation they’re in. "All of this."

"It's okay," Seongwoo says easily, because he realises he really doesn't all that mind Minhyun being here with him, in this moment.

Minhyun shakes his head. "It's not right. To be tricking all these people here, that you care about, for this. I'm sorry."

It sucks, and it’s not ideal, this whole situation isn’t, but every minute spent with Minhyun, like this, makes the feeling of uneasiness fade in the pit of Seongwoo’s stomach.

“What can you do, right?” Seongwoo shakes his head and shrugs in return. Minhyun smiles back at him. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [writing twt](https://twitter.com/dinuguans) ♡
> 
> [main twt](https://twitter.com/haecns)!


	4. is it really all that bad? when i dream about you.

It takes two to tango. It takes (at least) two to pull off a wonderful heist (unless you’re like a Marvel superhero, but even they needed an Avengers, didn’t they?). 

It also takes two to do both. Thing was, Minhyun was evidently bad at both of them.

Minhyun can’t stop letting out little yelps or widen his eye in surprise, shifting slightly away from Seongwoo whenever Seongwoo came to put an arm around his waist.

Mingyu is chatting their ear off excitedly about some book that he really enjoyed, one that Minhyun personally picked to publish. It was Minhyun who was talking to him first, before Seongwoo came up to them, as he did randomly throughout the night, an act to show that he was checking in on his wonderful _fiance._ Minhyun smiles at Mingyu politely as he continues talking, but he shifts from foot to foot with Seongwoo’s presence next to him.

“You know, you gotta stop being so jumpy whenever I’m around,” Seongwoo whispers in Minhyun’s ear, a light chuckle ending the sentence. “We’re supposed to be lovey, but I’m about to start crying at how much you look like you want to shit your pants.”

Minhyun’s face turns into one of annoyance, and Mingyu doesn’t notice. “Well you keep _surprising_ me, randomly going up to me like that,” he hisses. “And I’m just. I’m just not used to someone holding me like this, okay.”

Seongwoo immediately let’s go of his waist and steps back, a bit further from Minhyun. “Sorry, was I too into your spa—“

Minhyun immediately steps closer to Seongwoo. “No, no it’s okay. You’re right. Should be normal. We’re getting married, this is what people do.”

Seongwoo wants to laugh at that, the look of determination on Minhyun’s face. He doesn’t put his arm back around Minhyun’s waist, but he uses his free hand, the one that isn’t holding onto a wine glass, to clasp Minhyun’s hand with his.

Minhyun’s hand responds immediately slotting his fingers through his own and squeezing, and Seongwoo’s face warms. Something starts swirling in his stomach, and he feels pleased. He looks back up to Mingyu, just now noticing that Mingyu’s last sentence falls shortly on his lips.

Mingyu gives them a smirk, and though Minhyun looks clueless, Seongwoo knows that Mingyu is feeling particularly cheeky. 

“You guys are cute,” Mingyu says, laughing. He downs the rest of his wine quickly. “At this rate, I’m going to be the last one at these get togethers with a man. Damn, really thought I would beat you to it, Ong.”

He feels Minhyun next to him shake with laughter, and his face turns into one with mock offense. “Jungkook’s been literally waiting for you to confess for years,” is what he says instead.

Mingyu makes a noise. “Literally lies. And fuck whoever told you I like him. Was it Daniel? He promised not to tell anyone!”

“No one told me. It really is just that obvious.”

“Well. It’s not true. He doesn’t like me,” Mingyu frowns. “Man, I need another one of these. And to look for Jungkook, speaking of.” He leans over to hug Minhyun, and Minhyun makes a noise of surprise, before letting go of Seongwoo’s hand temporarily to hug him back. “It was really nice to meet you, Minhyun. You’re fun to talk to! Kind of mad that you snatched Seongwoo here up before I could find myself a nice man, but you guys are really cute.”

“Thank you,” Minhyun blushes.

“Sorry you have to deal with him for the rest of your life,” Mingyu responds. “It’s not too late to back out now!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Minhyun’s eyes sparkle.

“See you at your wedding,” Mingyu winks, before taking off.

“You’re not invited to it!” Seongwoo calls back, but Mingyu is long gone, leaving Minhyun giggling next to him.

 

“Is what you said true?”

Seongwoo turns to Minhyun, whose face is much brighter than before. “Hmm?”

“About this Jungkook person liking him back. Or were you just playing him?”

Seongwoo shakes his head. “Jungkook is very much in love with him. But they’re best friends, don’t wanna ruin a good friendship, yada yada. No one told me about his crush either. It’s just been that obvious for years.”

“Hmm,” Seongwoo feels a squeeze, and he looks down to see they’re holding hands again. Seongwoo didn’t even notice, and it looks as if Minhyun didn’t either. “That’s really sad, actually.”

“Yeah,” Seongwoo responds. “At first it was kind of funny for all of us to watch them tiptoe around each other. ‘Do you think if I just confess now..’ Jungkook will say one weekend and the next weekend it’s Mingyu whining in my ear about how pretty Jungkook is. And it’s like, he feels the _same_ _way_ about you, dumbass. It was like watching a show where both the characters are pining after one another, and you’re the viewer just watching it all unfold.”  He laughs nostalgically at the memory. “But, sometimes one of them will have one too many drinks, crying about the other, _really_ crying, you know, the one where you hear the hurt in their voice so much it kind of hurts us too, and we all just feel bad.”

“But they’ll figure it out, right?” Minhyun asks, wistfully. “They have to.”

“Hwang Minhyun,” Seongwoo says, almost teasingly. “I thought you’re not one for true love?”

Minhyun makes a face. “I’m not. I’m not saying they’re soulmates.” He makes a noise of disdain. “I just think it’s sad. They both love each other so I don’t see what’s stopping them. Also, Mingyu is cool.”

Seongwoo doesn’t tease him further, just smiles and nods. “Yeah, they’ll figure it out. I genuinely think so.”

Minhyun grins. “Good.”

 

 

 

“Hello, losers, as well as family of Sungwoon’s and Daniel’s,” a noise sounds loudly over the party, and they all turn towards the door. Jihoon and Woojin are there, having just burst in, grinning, face full of laughter, and they bow to the crowd, a silent apology for the interruption, and a hello to the older people in the crowd. “Sorry we’re late.”

“And sorry for the interruption,” Woojin adds, but he’s smiling like he’s not sorry at all.

Though late, they’re already in dress shirts and nice slacks, prepared. Sungwoon and Daniel’s loud laugh echo throughout the room, and they push past people staring at the duo to tackle them with a hug.

“My favorite Parks,” Sungwoon yells, and Daniel hugs them way too tightly, as seen by Jihoon’s pinched face as he’s lifted off the ground.

“Party can finally start with you guys,” Daniel comments, and the rest of the crowd laughs, knowing all too well it’s true.

The rehearsal dinner-party  isn’t big by any means, less than fifty people who are all close friends of Sungwoon and Daniel. Almost all of them know each other, and know the antics Woojin and Jihoon love to pull, so after a few laughs, they all turn back to their respective conversations.

“They’re a lot brighter than at work,” Minhyun comments.

Seongwoo turns to him. “Yeah, they’re a bit scared of you at work.”

Minhyun hums, almost as if he’s pleased, and Seongwoo elbows him, laughing. “Cannot believe you are getting a rise out of that!”

“It’s just. Interesting! I didn’t think anyone was scared of me.”

Seongwoo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, as if you don’t know.”

At that moment,  Woojin and Jihoon both go up to Seongwoo, after they’ve piled up their tiny plates with pastries, giving him a smile and a nod. They turn to Minhyun first, and their personalities settle to be calmer.

“Hey, it’s nice to see you— sir? Mr. Hwang?” Jihoon says first, his face etched with confusion.

“Just Minhyun is fine outside of work,” a lilt to his voice. 

“Ah, Minhyun,” Woojin says, testing it out. It felt weird on his tongue, to be honest. “It’s nice to see you. And uh, congrats. On you guys.” He gestures to them awkwardly.

“Thanks,” Minhyun says, and before anyone can blink, he does the unexpected, and leans forward to give both of them a hug.

A squeak comes from both Woojin and Jihoon respectively, and when Minhyun steps back, Seongwoo can’t help but keep his eyes trained on him. Minhyun doesn’t seem fazed at his action though, instead laughing at their reactions. 

“I know we don’t really know each other that well, yet, but I hope we can all become close. Since you guys are really important to Seongwoo,” Minhyun says shyly, and it’s so _sincere_ that it makes Seongwoo a little dizzy.

Jihoon grins at him, eyes bright, and he nods while chewing on the fluffy mini croissant. It turns out the assurance was all it took for the pair to stop being so weirdly awkward with Minhyun.  “We would love that! To be honest, we were kind of shocked— you know,Seongwoo didn’t tell anyone? Well, you probably knew. But man, he really is good at keeping secrets. Better than I remember him keeping secrets, though. But you guys are both really handsome, so, anyway, uh. No complaints here.”

“Not more handsome than us as a pair though,” Woojin adds, nodding. “I have Jihoon on my side. Sorry.”

Minhyun snorts, then leans over to press a light kiss to the corner of Seongwoo’s mouth, missing his lips, but somehow it feels as if if he did it on purpose. “I mean, I have Seongwoo, but to each their own, I guess.”

Seongwoo almost chokes, and he unknowingly digs his nail into Minhyun’s palms. _He really is playing this thing up, better than I thought,_ Seongwoo thinks. He’s almost outdoing _me,_ is what he thinks, and he almost laughs at the thought.

Jihoon and Woojin pause to stare at them, surprise at Minhyun’s affection, before shaking their head. 

“Fine. That was cute. Or whatever. But we’re the cutest!” Jihoon says. “Sorry. You’re a good 1.5 place though.”

“We’ll take it,” Seongwoo says, and he hesitatingly pulls Minhyun closer to him to tentatively wrap his arm around his waist again. Minhyun doesn’t jump this time, instead almost _melts_ into Seongwoo’s touch, and the warmth pooling in Seongwoo’s stomach comes back. “As long as we’re above Sungwoon and Daniel.”

“It’s their wedding,” Minhyun laughs. “We should give it to them.”

Seongwoo hums in fake thought. “Fine. We’ll give it to them. Just for this weekend, though.”

Minhyun nods. “Just for this weekend. Agreed.”

 

“Yo!” 

They all turn towards the noise, and they all brighten towards the voice.

“Nice to see you guys,” the guy says, happiness radiating off of him, as he leans forward to give both of them a one-armed hug. “You guys never make your way down here anymore.”

Woojin laughs. “Jungkook. Nice to see you, man.”

_Ah, so this was Jungkook,_ Minhyun thinks, and to be honest, he really isn’t all that surprised to see that Mingyu was in love with him. The guy radiated the sun, even his walk had a bounce to it. The dangly earring in his ear sparkled against the light, and he seemed so carefree. “Make some time for us here, will you? Busan is not the same without you.”

“Mmm, sorry I’m stealing him away,” Jihoon teases, but he’s laughing as he gives Jungkook a hug as well.

“Uh-uh, no excuse. Same goes to you. You don’t visit enough,” Jungkook protests.   

“And me? What about me not visiting enough?” Seongwoo pipes up, and Jungkook finally turns to look at them.

He pauses for a few seconds. “Eh, don’t really notice a difference, really.”

Seongwoo mumbles out a “ _hey!” b_ efore they’re both laughing and throwing their arms around each other.

“Just kidding, of course I would notice you not causing a ruckus here anymore,” Jungkook chuckles. “At least Woojin had the decency to bring Jihoon _before_ they got engaged. What’s this I’m hearing through the grapevine?”

“Hey, I’m—“

He pushes Seongwoo aside before he can answer to give Minhyun a quick once-over before crushing him with a hug. “Nice to meet you! I’m Jungkook.”

Minhyun squeaks— he didn’t expect him to be so strong. And why is everyone here so friendly?

“I’m Minhyun,” Minhyun says shyly. “I’m— I heard about you through Mingyu.”

Something flashes in Jungkook’s face, but as quickly as its there, it’s gone, replaced by a teasing smile. “Ah, really? Hope he didn’t say anything bad about me.”

“Nope, none of that. Only good things! And I’ve noticed it already, too.”

“Hmmm, what is that?”

“You’re really nice—well,” Minhyun corrects himself. “Everyone here is.” He gestures to Woojin and Jihoon too, gestures to the whole room. “I’m glad to be here. Thank you for having me.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. You’re our Seongwoo-hyung’s fiance! Of course we’ll have you. You’ll have to start getting used to us, actually,” Jungkook responds, cheekily, slinging an arm around Minhyun’s shoulders. This time, he does make a yelp of surprise.  “Since you’re going to be here a long time.”

“I’m stealing him away, by the way,” he says pointedly to the rest of the three, and Minhyun’s eyes widen at what that could possibly mean.

“Wait— hey!” Seongwoo protests, but it’s no use, Jungkook is already pulling him along with a grin and a, “so what is this about Mingyu talking about me? Be honest, do I have to kill him?”

Seongwoo shakes his head, but relaxes, knowing Jungkook is completely harmless and Minhyun will fare well against Jungkook’s cheekiness. 

“Hyung,” Woojin speaks up.

“Hmm?” Seongwoo finally tears his eyes away from Minhyun’s retreating figure to face the younger pair.

“You guys are really cute,” Woojin says. “Like this. You guys are really cute like this.”

Seongwoo colors. “Thanks.”

“No, really,” Jihoon adds. “We’re really sorry we said it was for a promotion or something. I mean, not going to lie, it’s still kind of weird— to see him like this, to see _you guys_ like this, but. But it’s cute.”

“Thanks,” he leans over to pinch both of them, only lightly, on the arm, grinning. “You guys are brats. But this means a lot.”

They nod in acknowledgement, not ones for talking about _feelings_ much, and with that, Woojin tugs on Jihoon’s arm with a, “You think they have nutella in the kitchen so I can dip this pastry into it?”

They wave a goodbye to Seongwoo, and he finds the nearest surface to settle down on to finally rest, but more importantly his beating heart. He breathes in and out, waiting for this feeling, an almost euphoric feeling, to settle.

 

 

It’s not until late into the night does he see Minhyun again— after most of the guests have gone home, and instead, everyone’s settled into Sungwoon and Daniel’s spacious living room, that they’ve somehow still made homey, despite the wide space. Only the small group of close friends remain; Jihoon, Woojin, Mingyu, Jungkook, and of course Sungwoon and Daniel. They’re all talking quietly as they chew on chips they’ve dug out from the pantry and crackers, and Seongwoo’s heart beats steadily at this feeling of home. They haven’t all gathered like this in a long while.

“Man I wish Jaehwan was here,” Daniel sighs. “Can’t believe he’s not coming to our _wedding.”_

They’re all slightly buzzed from the alcohol they’ve been consuming all night. 

“He’s on tour, babe,” Sungwoon laughs. “Can’t blame him.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Daniel huffs. “When we don’t go to his wedding then he’ll see.”

Seongwoo’s sitting on the couch, Minhyun seated next to him. On one hand, he’s quietly nursing a canned beer, while the other rests lightly on Minhyun’s thigh, as Minhyun plays with it almost quietly. It was Minhyun who had gone up to him first when they all settled around the living room, snuggling a bit closer than Seonwgoo would expect of him, grabbing at his hand. His cheeks were a light red color, and his hair a bit more ruffled and out of place. Minhyun’s gaze was dazed, almost out of it, but Seongwoo know’s he couldn’t have had more than two glasses of wine. He makes a note in his head that Minhyun can’t hold his alcohol, and laughs under his breath. This Minhyun, this Minhyun is _so cute._

He’s too busy watching Minhyun’s calloused and rough fingers— no doubt from signing and writing notes everywhere, and from his bitten down, _stubby,_ nails— make patterns on his own hands— softer and smaller in comparison— to hear Mingyu’s question.

“Seongwoo— how did you guys get together?” Mingyu repeats.

He looks up, realizing they asked him something, after Jihoon, who’s sitting on the floor by his feet, pinches him. “Huh?”

“How did you guys get together? Like. We all know that you guys work together,” Seongwoo notices how he avoids the use assistant-boss part, “But like, who asked out the other first?”

“Mm, I did,” Minhyun says next to him, and Seongwoo turns to him in surprise, because he knows they agreed that though Minhyun _proposed_ , Seongwoo _confessed_ first. It was only fair. Minhyun’s eyes are more focused now though, and the red on his cheeks aren’t as vibrant, but he still continues to rub patterns on Seongwoo’s hand. “You know. We had to work together so much, Seongwoo really adjusted so well to the job, and he was just. So cute. So you know,  late nights at the office— get your head out of the gutter, Jungkook— _but_ late nights at the office together just made me realize how much I wanted to kiss Seongwoo. So. One day, I just did.”

Jihoon all but preens at the story, smacking Woojin excitedly. “That is so cute. So you guys were working together at the office late one night, looking over some files, and you just, leaned over all the manuscripts, and _kissed?”_

Minhyun laughs, while the rest picture it in their head and make shocked noises. “Yeah, basically. Though it was over some take-out food that we were eating. He tasted like jjajangmyeon.”

Seongwoo’s heart skips a beat. He can easily think of so many nights spent like this, being at the office after hours, the only light illuminated on the floor was the one in Minhyun’s office that they both worked quietly in. Seongwoo would eventually coax and remind Minhyun to eat, and they would eat quietly across from each other before getting back to work. 

 

It had never ended in the way Minhyun had described it, though.

 

“Literally like a movie,” Sungwoon coos. “I bet Seongwoo got so surprised and nervous and started talking, like, a mile a minute, after that.”

Seongwoo is ready to protest, but Minhyun beats him to it. “Yeah, that’s exactly what happened,” he laughs, cheekily. “But it was easy to shut him up.”

And that— that’s what really makes Seongwoo choke, the _implications._  

_W_ _hoo!!_ and cheers from the rest of them echoing in his ear.

“Oh my god, air out all my dirty laundry?” is what he chokes out after he manages to get a hold of himself. “…Babe?” he adds, for good measure.

Minhyun just grins at him, and leans over to peck him on the cheek. His lips hover for a few seconds over Seongwoo’s cheek, as if he’s processing himself that he really just gave Seongwoo a kiss, before he’s pulling away, ears a bit redder than before. Seongwoo’s brain short circuits at the sharp tingle the kiss gives him.

His eyes flutter close, and the only thing that gets his heart to calm down is the reminder that _he’s acting, he’s acting, he’s acting._

 

 

 

 

By the time the group decides it’s getting too late and it’s an early day tomorrow, full of more socialising and last minute preparations for the wedding, it’s nearing sunrise. Almost everyone has sobered up, instead the feverish atmosphere more-so due to exhaustion settling onto the group like a thick blanket, embarrassing stories from college and teen years and _hey remember when?_ being thrown around. 

Minhyun stays quiet for the most part throughout the stories, and the group tries their best to include him as much as they can, but it goes a little something like: _hey minhyun you’ve done stuff like this before, right?_ and Minhyun shyly shaking his head with a, _spent a lot ofmy time reading and studying_ and a _come on, didn’t your friends drag you out?_ and a laugh — _they tried to._

Seongwoo finds it incredibly endearing that his friends try _so_ hard to welcome Minhyun, and he doesn’t know how Minhyun feels, if he feels left out or upset, according to the wistful tone of his voice, so instead he keeps Minhyun’s hand in his, grasping it tightly.

Minhyun is less touchy than earlier in the night, but he still keeps his hand snug in Seongwoo’s palm as they wave to everyone a good night. Minhyun is the one who pulls them up towards the staircase and towards the hallway, into their room, and the image in front of Seongwoo — the image of Minhyun, disheveled, cheeks puffy and soft, eyes drooped down, tired, pulling them towards their room, so domestic looking — burns into the back of his eyes.

It’s not until they’ve reached the confines of their bedroom, door shut, does Minhyun finally let go of Seongwoo’s and Seongwoo feels himself unconsciously frowning at the lack of touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter will be up soon.  
> i'm on finals week, but hopefully by this weekend.
> 
> i'm sorry for the pacing of this i'm so out of practice and just really miss onghwang
> 
> [writing twt](https://twitter.com/dinuguans) ♡
> 
> [main twt](https://twitter.com/haecns)!


	5. would you mind closing the bedroom door?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd!
> 
> (chapter end notes are long, but i'd appreciate if you'd read it.)
> 
> enjoy.

Seongwoo wakes up with a dull ache in the lower part of his back.

Despite how comfy the leather couch looks, it really wasn’t all that comfy when you had the back of an eighty year old man.

He moans, fumbling around for his phone somewhere in the crevices of the couch, grumbling to himself at how much his back hurts. The lights are still dark in the room, and it’s only the muted light that comes from the windows past the curtains does Seongwoo remotely see any shadow. 

When the cool edge of his phone is finally located, he raises it up to his face, a lot closer than usual without his contacts to help him. 8:45 am. He had set an alarm for 9:00am. He drops his phone to his side, chastising his body clock for waking himself up earlier than needed. By the time he and Minhyun had gotten back to the room last night, it was nearing four a.m, meaning he had only nearly gotten a little less than five hours of sleep, and his whole body, including his head, ached with a sense of tiredness.

Last night.

_Last night._

Since he doesn’t seem to be falling back asleep for a last minute snooze any time soon, he allows himself to think about last night and Minhyun. _Minhyun._

 

 

When they had gotten back to their room last night, Minhyun had let go of Seongwoo’s arm quickly, crossing the room, an awkward silence settling in between them. Seongwoo couldn’t help but think about how the lack of Minhyun’s presence by his side made his chest feel heavy.

“Um,” Seongwoo had said, clearing his throat. He had stood by the door, still, as Minhyun had started milling around rummaging through his things for pyjamas. “So, um.”

Minhyun looks up.

“That was really good, uh, ” Seongwoo fiddles with the door handle he was still clutching tightly as Minhyun gazes at him, eyes tired and soft. “That was really good acting back there. I, um, didn’t know you had it in you.”

He tries to sound casual, but he thinks with the way his voice wavers that he fails.

Minhyun’s face tinges red, and he pauses his rummaging to stand still, frozen, staring at Seongwoo with a guilty look on his face. “I— was that too much? Sorry, I should have, I should have asked before kissing you, and stuff. I just. You were right. About having to be more comfortable. I thought,” he runs his free hand, the one not clutching a bag of toiletries, through his hair. “I thought we were quite awkward earlier. Before the party. And it was my fault. I thought we had to be more comfortable, since we’re— since, we—, but if it was too mu—“

Panic rises like an overflowing volcano in Seongwoo’s chest, and he scrambles to cut Minhyun’s thoughts off. “No!”

Minhyun pauses at Seongwoo’s outburst, and raises his eyebrow. 

Seongwoo clears his throat. “I mean, uh, no, uh. It’s fine. You’re right. I don’t think Sungwoon was really buying it earlier. Before the party and all. So, uh. Good catch.”

He nods along to his own voice, trying to play off some sort of nonchalance. 

Minhyun nods again in response. “Okay,” a bite of his lip (one that Seongwoo tries not to stare at. He fails.) “So we’re, uh, okay?”

Seongwoo smiles, a small smile. “Yeah, um. You go ahead and shower first. I’ll go after you.”

Minhyun agrees with a hum, and looks down again, if not slower and more relaxed than before, to find all he needs in his things. Seongwoo finally lets go of the door handle and tries to settle on the couch he had agreed to make his home for the weekend, and tries to settle the nerves that have built in his body throughout the night by fiddling with his phone.

He’s in the middle of opening and closing and opening and closing instagram when Minhyun voice causes him to look up. Minhyun has his things gathered all in his arms, halfway to the bathroom, when he stops in the middle of their room, almost hunched into himself, his bare feet stepping on each other.

“Seongwoo,” Minhyun says softly, and when Seongwoo meets his eyes, _tired, soft, eyes,_ Minhyun is looking at him with worry and something else he can’t read. “You’ll say something right? If we overstep? Overstep our boundaries? Do something we’re not comfortable with?”

Seongwoo pauses. It’s a question with an underlying question below it— he can tell, but his mind is working a mile a minute to try to figure out what it is. In the end, he lets out a breath, and nods.

“Yeah, of course,” Seongwoo throws him a small smile. “You’ll tell me too, right?”

Minhyun lets out a breath, almost relieved. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

 

 

 

Seongwoo wakes up again to the sun shining in his eyes.He startles awake, and for a second he pauses, trying to take in his surroundings, before he realizes that the curtains are now open, and the bed is empty, carefully made, as if someone didn’t really sleep there at all.

He fumbles for his phone, and when he locates it again, he sees that it’s nearing 10:00am, and he’s missed his alarm. Somehow, he had fallen back asleep, and he wonders why he didn’t wake up to his alarm. Instead, he sighs, he doesn’t think he really has super pressing tasks to do today, so he allows himself a few minutes of staring at the ceiling before dragging his body to the bathroom. He briefly wonders where Minhyun is, if he’s adjusting well to his friends without him.

 

 

When he finally makes his way downstairs, he finds all his friends in the breakfast nook of Sungwoon and Daniel’s kitchen, all gathered around on the table. Daniel and Sungwoon are by the kitchen, Sungwoon stirring some sort of pancake batter while Daniel is flipping some perfectly round pancakes by the stove. 

It’s a large commotion for so early in the morning, Woojin and Mingyu arguing over the table some bacon while Jungkook and Jihoon talk loudly over them about some famous Overwatch gamer. Minhyun sits squished between Woojin and Jihoon, a small smile on his face, as he stabs at the eggs on the plate, listening quietly to the noise.

“Good morning,” he calls out, and no one spares him a glance except Minhyun who looks up abruptly, his smile growing wider.

Seongwoo reaches the rest of them and grabs the empty chair next to Mingyu, just to shove it in between Jihoon and Minhyun, dramatically placing himself right next to his  fiance .  Boss. 

Minhyun.

Jihoon makes a noise of protest as he’s shoved to the right, closer to Jungkook, but continues on his conversation.

As Seongwoo settles in his seat, he turns to look at Minhyun with a grin on his face, feeling the latter’s hand rest softly on his knee. In an act of courage, he leans forward to press a kiss on Minhyun’s cheek, before pulling away shyly.

“Morning,” Seongwoo whispers, and because he doesn’t want Minhyun to question it, “Sungwoon was looking at us.”

Minhyun face distorts from one of confusion and shyness, to a quiet misunderstanding. “Oh. Oh right. Makes sense.” 

(He’s not sure if Sungwoon really was looking. Seongwoo just wanted to kiss him.)

“You didn’t wake me,” Seongwoo says, and leans forward to grab some fruit to put on his plate. 

Minhyun colors. “Sorry. You looked really tired. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you.”

Seongwoo shrugs. “It’s cool. It did leave me wondering where you were though.”

“I had come down here and they were all already sitting here eating breakfast,” a laugh. “They’re so rowdy.”

Seongwoo shoots him a pained look. “Sorry for them.”

As if on cue, Woojin holds up a fork to Mingyu’s neck, threatening to stab him if he takes the more crunchy piece of bacon.

Minhyun laughs. “No, uh, actually it’s the opposite. It’s really nice. It’s like a family. I didn’t really. I—uh, I don’t really have anything like this.”

“Well you’re part of ours now,” Jungkook pipes up, overhearing their conversation. 

Minhyun turns towards Jungkook, face coloring at the implication.

“A lot of us lived together in university,” Jungkook continues to explain. “We all rented this house we had together. S’what happens after you’ve had to live together for so long.”

“Oh, that’s really cool?” Minhyun replies. “I never even had roommates before.”

“Never?” Seongwoo asks in surprise. “Not in university?”

Minhyun shakes his head. “I lived at home for the first two years back in America — my house was close enough. Then I was able to just get an apartment by myself.”

“Well that’s no fun,” Jihoon frowns. “Part of the college experience is hating your roommates.”

“Are you saying you hated us, Hoonie?” Mingyu pipes up.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Jihoon confirms.

Before anyone else can retort, Sungwoon makes a noise behind them. 

“Alright, alright, move over,” Sungwoon says, squeezing his way between the heads to place more pancakes in the middle. “More pancakes. Since you all are acting like you haven’t eaten in years.”

Minhyun finally moves his hand from Seongwoo’s thigh to clap happily at the sight of more pancakes, and though he doesn’t like feeling farther away from Minhyun, the warmth of his palm was starting to burn against his skin, burning and crawling up into his chest, ready to burst.

“Hey Daniel,” Mingyu pouts. “Can you make more bacon? Woojin ate literally _all_ of them. Literally.”

“No I didn’t! I had _three._ ”

The protest ensued more arguing, and soon the breakfast table was in chaos again.

“Hey,” Minhyun says quietly, reaching over to place a pancake on Seongwoo’s plate. Seongwoo smiles gratefully. “The couch didn’t look, uh, comfortable. How was it?”

Seongwoo shrugs. “I mean. It’s not ideal. But.” 

“How about,” Minhyun stops. Reaches up to chew on the his nail. “We can share the bed, tonight?”

Seongwoo looks up from cutting his pancake to meet Minhyun’s eyes quickly. When they make eye contact, Minhyun looks away abruptly, red ears a giveaway for his awkwardness.

“Only if you want though,” Minhyun says quickly. “It’s just. It didn’t look comfortable. And that’s not fair. To you.”

Minhyun looks down at his plate, cutting up the same piece of bacon that was already cut up into reasonable chunks, to give his hands something to do.

“That’s all?”

Minhyun looks up at that, Seongwoo’s teasing tone getting the better of him. Seongwoo looks at him smugly, happiness radiating from him face.

“That’s _all,_ ” Minhyun insists. He huffs. “I’m trying to be nice, no need to teas—“

Seongwoo laughs, leaning forward to give Minhyun a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m just kidding. Thank you.”

Minhyun turns to look at him, a small smile on his face, before nodding in acknowledgement and turning back to their plates. He clears his throat, passing a plate of scrambled eggs to Seongwoo. “You should eat some eggs.”

Seongwoo laughs, nodding at Minhyun’s ability to take care of him like this. 

“Alright, boss,” he replies, and he thinks he likes Minhyun’s face as it blushes at the word.

He’s pretty sure Minhyun has caught onto the fact that Seongwoo has stopped kissing him for an audience, but at this point he thinks he doesn’t care— thinks it’s all worth it.

 

✢

 

Minhyun’s been getting bolder. With the kisses. The touches. The looks. The _pretending._

Seongwoo thinks it’s due to his own antics he pulled earlier in the day, at breakfast — but don’t get it wrong, he’s definitely not complaining.

 

It starts out with the pet names.

(And the hand holding. And the kissing.)

(But it _starts_ with the pet names.)

After breakfast, though Sungwoon and Daniel still have a lot of last minute things to do before the wedding the next day, Daniel insists on the group gathering around the living room to play some pictionary. 

“But when’s the last time we’re all here,” Daniel whines, when Sungwoon tries to tell him they still have to check in on the flower arrangements and making sure the right amount of chairs and tables are arriving. “We have to take advantage it.”

So they play pictionary.

It’s Sungwoon-Daniel, Jihoon-Woojin, Jungkook-Mingyu, and Seongwoo-Minhyun on a team, of course, and during the whole game, Minhyun consistently keeps his hand on any part of Seongwoo. Clutching his thigh, pulling at his waist, playing with his fingers. It almost drives him crazy. Seongwoo’s usual competitive streak suffers at the distraction, and the others definitely take notice.

“Hyung, how do you function at work if you get this distracted because ofMinhyun?” Woojin accuses, and the others guffaw.

“H-hey!” Seongwoo stammers out. “I’ll have you know that I’m basically employee of the fucking month.”

Minhyun laughs and nods, still keeping his hand on Seongwoo’s thigh, this time rubbing his thumb along the rips of Seongwoo’s jeans. “He does a very good job at work.”

Jungkook snorts. “If I was dating my boss I would think I deserve employee of the fucking month, too,” he mumbles under his breath.

He earns a kick from Seongwoo which elicits a groan. 

“ _Baby_ , don’t mind them,” Minhyun waves off, and Seongwoo’s ears tickle at the word. Baby. 

Minhyun turns his head back to the white board on his lap where he drew a bunch of… blobs? With sticks connected to them? Circles are drawn next to them as well. “Now focus, baby. What is this? What did I draw?”

Seongwoo hums. “Broccoli? With meatballs?”

“ _Honeybun_ ,” Minhyun whines. “This is so easy! It’s, you know, whe—“

“No hints!” Sungwoon screeches, because the only person more competitive than Seongwoo is Sungwoon.

Seongwoo rolls his eyes. “Ikea?”

“How could this b—“

“Stew.”

“It’s not stew do you _see_ a pot anywh—“

“Okay, fine is it—“

“Time!” Daniel calls out, looking at his phone where the timer lay. “Minhyun, what did you draw?”

“It was a park,” he says, frowning. He removes his hand from Seongwoo’s thighs to start erasing the whiteboard. “ _These,”_ he points to the blobs with sticks. “Are trees. And _these,”_ he points to the circles. “Are children. Playing.”

“Children? What kind of children look like cylinders, Minhyun?” Seongwoo exclaims. “How in the fuck was I supposed to get that? No arms or legs! Literal circles!”

Minhyun pouts, turning his body away from Seongwoo. “You don’t have to be mean, I know I’m not Picasso.”

The rest laugh at Minhyun’s sudden demeanor change. 

“Seongwoo-hyung, you’ve upset him,” Mingyu calls out, teasing. “That’s not nice of you.”

“Stop, no I did— Hyunnie, are you really upset?!”

Minhyun’s back is completely faced towards Seongwoo now, and Minhyun sniffs. 

“Well it wasn’t very nice of you,” he hears a muffled noise.

“Oh come on,” Seongwoo whines, pulling at Minhyun’s waist to bring him closer. “It’s just a game. I didn’t mean to be mean.”

Minhyun easily moves closer into Seongwoo’s arms, but still, a pout on his face remains.

“Come on baby,” he says, trying out the pet name. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

“You have to kiss him now, as forgiveness,” Woojin teases.

(It continues on with the kisses.)

Seongwoo frowns. Leans forward to kiss the tip of Minhyun’s nose. It elicits a laugh from the other, and he smiles as Minhyun’s ears start burning a bright red.

“It tickles!”

“Okay, we said kiss the guy not act gross in front of us,” Jungkook exclaims, nose wrinkling.

“Er—“

Seongwoo and Minhyun pause, letting go of each other when they’ve realized they’ve almost cocooned into each other.

Minhyun turns away from Seongwoo, creating space in between them.

Seongwoo clears his throat, turning back to the rest of the group. “Who’s turn is it? Mingyu and Jungkook’s?”

The apprehension on Seongwoo’s face leaves the rest of the group grinning at him smugly. “Nice subject change, Ong,” Daniel calls out, waggling his eyebrows. “Kiss your fiancé, dude.”

Woojin nods fervently. “Let’s see it happen, lovebirds!”

“Er—no, let’s get back to the game,” Seongwoo mumbles. “Come on, still gotta beat you guys.”

  
“Uh-uh. No getting out of this. Just kiss the hell out of Minhyun so we can get it over with,” Sungwoon says, brightly.

“I—“

“Let’s just get it over with,” a voice to the left of his mumbles, and Seongwoo turns to see a red-faced Minhyun who refuses to look him in the eye.

A chorus of _whoo!_ sound from around the group. 

“Are you sure?” Seongwoo asks Minhyun dropping his voice an octave lower so only Minhyun can hear.

“Are you?”

“I,” Seongwoo’s voice falters. “I want to.”

And it’s this. Opening his heart so easily. It’s this that makes Seongwoo, Seongwoo. It’s who he is.

“It’s… okay?” Seongwoo asks tentatively.

A nod.

(“Well come on, we don’t have all day, getting married tomorrow! Get a fucking move on,” Sungwoon yells. “Kiss the guy!”)  


It’s awkward. Seongwoo can’t deny it. 

He moves closer to Minhyun slowly, anticipation but also guilt in his eyes. Minhyun pulls at his wrist and bringing one hand up to cup Seongwoo’s jaw, and Seongwoo is so worried— _did his breath still smell like bacon and eggs? Why do my arms feel so nice resting on his waist? Turn your head, don’t hit his nos—_ and god. Seongwoo was consumed. Minhyun is soft and sweet and licking into his mouth, hesitantly, even politely, always polite— even when kissing. His fingers tap softly against Seongwoo’s cheek, _drum, drum, drum_ to the beat of his own heartbeat, speeding up and slowing. Speeding up because this is how it feels like to be had by Minhyun, and slowing, because time doesn’t exist, not when Minhyun is kissing him like this.

_Does he feel it too?_ he wonders briefly, when he lets his mind wander. _Does he feel this consumed too?_

It gets increasingly warmer as Minhyun drops his hands from Seongwoo’s jaw down to his neck, pulling him closer, until he’s running his fingers lightly over Seongwoo’s throat and laying flat against Seongwoo’s chest, and Seongwoo almost pulls Minhyun’s waist closer to him, almost on his lap wh—

“Okay,” Woojin clears his throat. “We said kiss not have sex.”

Minhyun’s eyes fly open and he pulls apart quickly, looking down on his lap, Seongwoo even really has a chance to remember where he is, eyes blinking lazily.

“A little too into it, my dudes,” Daniel laughs. 

Seongwoo rolls his eyes. “You guys were the ones who insisted on seeing us kiss!”

He fumbles for Minhyun’s hand which finds his and grasps it tightly, if not for showing the rest of the group that they aren’t awkward with each other, and that they _most definitely_ do this a lot. Minhyun squeezes his hand tightly.

“Well, _anyways,_ ” Jungkook says, clapping, turning his attention back to his own white board. “Mine and Mingyu’s turn. Mingyu don’t fuck this up for us I am rooting for you, we must beat these two bitches.”

He gestures towards Woojin and Jihoon who let out a laugh. 

“The sooner you learn that you will never beat us, the better time you will have at life, my precious hyungs,” Jihoon exclaims.

The rest of the group turns to the pair to continue on with the game, but Seongwoo sits there, albeit a little bit frozen, and he lightly touches his lips with his finger. He catches the eye of Sungwoon from across the room who winks at him.

 

✢

 

“You’re really lucky to have all of this.”

“Hm?”

They’ve all decided to go to the beach (sans Sungwoon and Daniel because Sungwoon was finally able to drag Daniel away to fix some last minute wedding arrangements with their parents) as part of tradition when most of their friends make it down to Busan.

It’s cold, the ocean air breeze leaving them to be bundled up in cardigans and baseball caps, but they’re all running around under the muted sun with no care in the world. Seongwoo and Minhyun opt to sit on the uneven sand, Seongwoo snapping pictures of his friends goofing off with the camera he brought along while Minhyun sat quietly next to him.

“I don’t,” Minhyun confesses. “I don’t have a friend group like this. And my family and I aren’t that close.”

Seongwoo drops his camera on his lap to look at Minhyun. The other man is quiet for the most part, knees pulled into his chest, a faraway look in his eyes as he watches the waves crash onto the shore.

“I never really allowed myself to keep in touch with any of my friends,” Minhyun says, breathing out. “Always chasing success. Be the best I could be. Reach my potential. It’s what I always learned from my parents. So. I never had any of this. And it was okay for awhile. Books were always my best friend, anyway. But this. I’m jealous of this. What you have, with them. What you guys all have together. It makes me jealous.”

“They’ve taken a liking to you,” Seongwoo says in response. He fiddles with the sand, running his fingers along the fine pieces. “You’re a part of it too, now.”

He watches Minhyun’s chest rise and fall, slowly, heavily.

“But it’s not the same,” Minhyun insists. And though his face doesn’t show any sign of sadness, his voice is hoarse. “This is all fake. It’s all fake. I’m sorry for making you do this. I didn’t think it would be this hard. But they’re you’re family. And I’m sorry.”

“Hyunnie,” Seongwoo says, and Minhyun looks up. Up and into his eyes because Seongwoo doesn’t call him _Hyunnie_ when it’s just them two. “What they feel for you is not fake. They’re so fond of you. And this, this _thing_ between us,” he doesn’t know what to really call them, anymore. “It doesn’t change the fact that they still care for you a lot. Genuinely. You don’t have to feel jealous.  You’ve,” he fumbles for the word. “You’ve completed the puzzle piece that we’ve all made together.”

“Oh,” is what Minhyun responds, and he breathes out because he thinks he doesn’t deserve any of this. Doesn’t deserve being part of this puzzle piece — not when he’s a horrible person who’s making Seongwoo, _Seongwoo,_ do this.

Instead, he grabs Seongwoo’s hand, slots his fingers between Seongwoo’s thin, cold ones, and squeezes.

 

✢

 

“You make me feel like risking it all for Jungkook,” Mingyu confesses, laying his head back the grass. 

Seongwoo and Mingyu are sitting out in the garden again, this time looking more vibrant filled with even more white and pastels. The wedding is going to be held in the garden, and the garden itself is dressed accordingly to the occasion.

Seongwoo’s insides feels warm, knowing this garden, the one that means so much to him, will be a symbol of his best friend’s love.

He turns to look at Mingyu. “Me?”

Mingyu nods, but doesn’t face him. He’s looking up into the blue afternoon sky, sighing in content. “You and Minhyun.”

Seongwoo gets a wave of a feeling. He can’t quite place what the feeling is, but it overtakes his body slowly. Tingling from his feet. To his fingertips. Slowing building up, up, up. 

“Yeah?” He breathes out.

Mingyu nods. His lips curl up into a smile. “You guys make it all seem worth it,” he says. “The way you guys look at each other, Seongwoo. If you could see the way you guys look at each other.”

He doesn’t know how they look at each other, but he says anyway, “Jungkook’s been looking at you like that for years.”

Mingyu snorts. “Maybe,” he shrugs. “Now if only I get the balls to do something about it.”

Seongwoo makes a noise in agreement. “Don’t wait too long, Mingyu. He won’t be waiting around forever. There’s a lot more dweebs like you in the world.”

Mingyu’s breath hitches. Seongwoo pauses. And then they’re laughing. Shaking so hard with laughter, Seongwoo has to roll over a bit to catch himself from choking.

“Seongwoo,” Mingyu shakes his head after they’ve recovered from the fit of laughter. “You’re different with Minhyun.”

“Yeah?”

“Not like, as a person,” Mingyu explains. “But, like. Like when you were with Eunwoo back then. You were always so worried. Always worrying about the relationship. Like you knew you weren’t destined.”

“He always said that’s part of what tore us apart,” Seongwoo comments.

“Maybe,” Mingyu agrees. “But you’re different. It’s like everything in you, everything that you are, is telling you this is right. I think I see it, too.”

Seongwoo wants to hug Mingyu. Maybe even give him a big fat kiss on the cheek. He loves his friends so much.

Instead, “How many times am I going to tell you that you’re basically describing yourself and Jungkook,” he says monotonously. 

“Fuck you. I’m trying to be a great friend here. Stop bringing it back to me and my unrequited love,” Mingyu spits, rolling his eyes.

“Yes. Unrequited. Definitely,” Seongwoo says, voice laced with sarcasm.

“Li—“

They hear a thud behind them, and Seongwoo and Mingyu both turn their heads towards the noise. Minhyun stands there, decorations dropped haphazardly on his feet, face red, like he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“Um,” he says. “Um. Can you guys help me put these decorations up?”

He smiles awkwardly, and he scrambles to pick up the mess he’s made. 

Mingyu nods, jumping up to help pick up some pieces.

Minhyun’s ears are tinged red, and Seongwoo wonders how much of the conversation Minhyun had heard.

 

✢

 

“Who’s Eunwoo?” Minhyun asks, later that night, when they’ve settled in bed.

Together.

Their backs are both facing each other, faces turned away. It’s an innocent question as any, Seongwoo knows, but he still frowns at the question. He contemplates pretending to be asleep, but knows he’s breathing too unevenly to pass off sleeping.

“No one,” Seongwoo sighs. “Go to sleep.”

It’s quiet, Minhyun contemplating, and Seongwoo thinks he’s dropped the subject, for once, listening to what Seongwoo asks of him, but instead he says, “You were the one who said we should know more stuff about each other,” he reasons.

“Not about hi— _this._ Go to sleep, Minhyun. We have a long day tomorrow,” Seongwoo repeats, and it’s with enough malice that he hears Minhyun’s breath hitch, full of surprise.

Seongwoo sighs again, turning his body so he’s lying flat against his back instead, and he lets his eyes flutter close. He hears rustling next to him, Minhyun moving.

_One._

_Two._

_“_ My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice,” Minhyun says, quietly, and Seongwoo’s eyes open, slowly. “Amongst some Nietzsche works.”

Seongwoo snorts — _pretentious._

“I love watching cheesy romance shows like _We_ _Got_ _Married_ , and _Terrace_ _House_. _Heart_ _Signal_. I know they’re all scripted but,” Minhyun shrugs, as much of a shrug as you can do lying down, “but it’s nice anyway. Fun.”

And it’s like he can sense Seongwoo’s question on the tip of his tongue because next he says, “It’s not like I don’t believe in love.” A sigh, “I think love is beautiful. I just don’t believe someone like me can have it, though. For myself.”

Before Seongwoo can ask why, _why not —_ Minhyun continues.

“I took singing lessons all the way up until high school. Love to sing,” he lists. “My first concert was some random festival my high school friends in America dragged me to, insisting I needed to _let loose._ ”

“I really love One Direction, if I could be the sixth member, I would,” Minhyun laughs, and it’s so beautiful, that Seongwoo cannot help but turn towards Minhyun and watch him. “Do you know One Direction?”

Seongwoo _does_ , but he shakes his head no. “Who?”

Minhyun’s face turns into one of shock, and he looks at Seongwoo incredulously. “One Direction.”

Seongwoo laughs at Minhyun’s reaction, and tries to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. “Sorry, who?”

Minhyun stares at him again, frowning.

A deep breath. “ _You’re insecure, don’t know what for. You’re turning heads when you walk through the do-o-r,”_ he sings, quietly, fingers tapping against his thigh. “ _You don’t know you’re beautiful, that’s what makes you beautiful?”_

He sings, and it’s incredibly funny, and incredibly heart fluttering all the same, that Seongwoo can’t help but break his innocent smile, and laugh loudly. Minhyun breaks off, mid- _baby you light up my world,_ in confusion, before realizing that Seongwoo was joking, all this time. He leans over and pinches Seongwoo. “You _do_ know them!”

Seongwoo laughs. “I’m sorry,” he wheezes. “I was just playing around. I didn’t know you would _sing._ ”

Minhyun frowns, and kicks his leg under the covers. “Not cool.”

Seongwoo laughs again. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “But you really did sound good.”

Minhyun hums in return instead, pouting.

After Seongwoo calms down and catches his breath, Minhyun continues.

“I’ve never played a video game before, but I told you that already.”

Seongwoo snorts at that. “Don’t understand how that’s even possible.”

“Love reading stuff about astrology but don’t really know what anything really means,” A hum. “Have a tattoo.”

Seongwoo abruptly moves forward at that, eyes widened, before Minhyun snorts at him. 

“Not gonna show you where. It’s a small tattoo of a few different stars, scattered with the moon.” He pauses, and the world around them seems to calm. “It was going to be a tattoo of the aurora, but wasn’t really fond of a colored tattoo.”

Minhyun quiets, and they lie there quietly, Seongwoo, looking at Minhyun, and Minhyun staring up at the ceiling. Minhyun’s face is twisted, as if he has more to say, but he doesn’t press further, not yet, anyway, so Seongwoo waits.

“Got it when I was eighteen,” finally says. “Was eighteen and I was feeling really lost.”

“The aurora…” Minhyun trails off, because what he wants to say is unexplainable. The way the aurora makes you feel, is unexplainable — Seongwoo knows.

“The stars keep me grounded too,” Seongwoo says, quietly, in response, and it’s the first time since their conversation since their started that Minhyun looks at him.

 

In the dead of night, the only sounds that they hear is the wind outside, pushing and pulling against the tree branches that sit outside their window. Facing Minhyun, his arm propped to support his head, scanning Minhyun’s face as if he was going to forget it any second. Minhyun looks the same as him, mirroring his position as he runs his eyes over Seongwoo’s face _—_ from his moles to his eyelashes, to his bangs that are a tiny bit too long they tickle the edge of his eyelids. Seongwoo can’t help the warmth pooling in his stomach, the way Minhyun is staring at him. On the other hand, Minhyun is holding his breath, while Seongwoo can’t help but breathe heavily.

It would be so easy to do it, Seongwoo thinks. Just kiss him right there. Kiss Minhyun on the cheeks. On his eyelids. On his forehead. On his nose. On his lips. Everywhere, Seongwoo thinks. Kiss him on his calloused fingers that write too much. On his shoulders that hunch with worry. It would be _so_ easy.

So with courage just like liquid, Seongwoo slowly removes himself from his arm, instead pushing himself up to get closer to Minhyun’s face, _closer, closer, closer,_ so close, that he thinks he hears a little squeak com from Minhyun’s mouth. Minhyun doesn’t look away, not even once, but now, _now,_ with such close proximity, his eyes flutter close, anticipating.

It’s different this time. Different from their previous kisses. This one, this _one,_ feels real. Feels like they both are leaving their hearts on their sleeves. 

It’s a good invitation as any _—_ the bated breath, the eyelashes coming to rest lightly on his cheeks as they flutter close, but Seongwoo still breathes out the question, “Is this,” a pause. “Is this okay?” 

Minhyun’s face freezes for a second and his eyes stare back at Seongwoo’s, unreadable. It’s a second too late, and Seongwoo already starts pulling away quickly. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he thinks. _Misreading the situation like this. Stup—_

Minhyun leans forward cupping Seongwoo’s cheek in his hand, and Seongwoo freezes amidst the internal panic. “More than.”

“What?”

“More than okay,” Minhyun breathes out, staring at him with so much determination and something he can’t quite describe — but he does know that it makes him feel seen. 

It’s not like a burst of fireworks. It doesn’t feel like a million happy memories popping up into his head. But it’s not a desperate one, not like the ones that Eunwoo used to give him that made him question if it would be their last. It feels like an ocean wave hitting the shore. Quietly, slowly, so beautiful in its simplicity it almost leaves you breathless.It feels like something indescribable turning and turning in the bottom of his stomach, tingling so much his body can’t stop moving. Moving. His thumb running lightly against Minhyun’s cheek, his other hand reaching up to tug Minhyun’s hair, pulling closer. Minhyun responds just as excitedly, and he moves to comply, moves to get closer, but his limbs are tangled in theblankets, and he stops briefly, smiling into Seongwoo’s lips, as he tries to untangle himself from the seemingly never-ending blankets.

“Hold—“ he whispers against Seongwoo’s lips, giggling. “Hold on. I’m stuck.”

Seongwoo whines, but allows Minhyun to pull himself away, if not just so he himself can catch his breath and try to calm his overwhelmed heart, beating so quickly. Looking at Minhyun again, though, looking at him, ears tinged red, cheeks high as he smiles into himself, untangling his long limbs from the blankets hold, he all but jumps on Minhyun when he finally gets the last foot out of the fabric.

Minhyun makes a noise in surprise as Seongwoo yanks his arm back down, pulling Minhyun on top of him, but his body easily relaxes, melting into Seongwoo as one hand grips at Seongwoo’s waist while his other hand runs his fingers up and down Seongwoo’s body. Minhyun’s lips are soft, so soft against his, and he tastes like peppermint, _toothpaste,_ Seongwoo’s brain haphazardly supplies him with, and something else — something sweet, and Seongwoo things that it’s just him in everything he is— Minhyun.

“It’s— this is, this is real, right?” Minhyun mumbles against his lips and the warmth that’s gathered in Seongwoo chest threatens to burst.

“Minhyun, _Hyunnie,”_ Seongwoo says, and Minhyun all but moans at Seongwoo’s lips spilling out his name like that. “It was— all of it—it’s all real for me.”

At that, Minhyun pauses, pulling away from Seongwoo, and Seongwoo whines at Minhyun’s lips suddenly not being on his, forcing himself to open his eyes. Minhyun stares back at him, breathless, eyes wide but shining.

Seongwoo widens his eyes. Was it not like that for Minhyun? Did he not feel the sa—

“I’ve liked you for forever,” Minhyun confesses, bringing Seongwoo out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“Remember,” Minhyun says. “Remember when we told everyone that I’ve wanted to kiss you always? When we would eat dinner late those nights? In the office?”

Seongwoo nods.

“You would coax me out of my office. Make me eat dinner. I’ve liked you since then. I’ve liked you for forever,” Minhyun confesses.

Seongwoo lets out a breathe. His mind feels almost clouded at this point, the only thoughts in his brain, the only thing he can feel in his senses is _Minhyun, Minhyun, Minhyun._

“It’s real for me,” is what Seongwoo says, what he repeats, because he doesn’t know what else he can say— no words to truly express the feeling that swirls in his stomach, the feeling that makes his skin prickle, makes his future seem bright, makes his future seem like _home_. “Everything. It’s you.”

Minhyun grins at him, and leans forward again to bring Seongwoo’s mouth to his.

They kiss like that, for Seongwoo doesn’t know how long, but long enough that his own lips start to feel bruised and Minhyun’s, red, almost swollen, and they hear the birds start chirping outside their window. It’s Minhyun who pulls away first, albeit reluctantly, and he takes a moment to catch his breath hovering over Seongwoo, chest rising up and down. Seongwoo looks back at him, unable to look away, a huge grin on his face as reaches up to move Minhyun’s bangs away from his eyes.

Seongwoo adjusts himself so his back is leaning against the headboard and Minhyun is sitting in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck and his limbs, messy around Seongwoo’s.

‘We should stop,” Minhyun says, but it’s so weak, that Seongwoo doesn’t believe him.

Seongwoo raises an eyebrow in response, leaning forward, risking and straining his neck to instead pepper kisses along Minhyun’s jaw. Starting from the corner of his mouth, down down down, to his jaw, back up along his neck, pausing when he reaches right below Minhyun’s ear. Minhyun moans in response, tilting his head back to give Seongwoo more access.

“We—“ Minhyun breathes out heavily. “It’s an early day. Tomorrow. Today.”

He barely manages to get the full sentence out, pausing every time Seongwoo inched closer to Minhyun’s ears. A sensitive spot.

“What— what time is it?”

Seongwoo shrugs. “Don’t know,” he says along Minhyun’s neck, and Minhyun shivers in response. It’s so cute, _so cute,_ how easily Minhyun unravels, that he pauses, finally pauses, and smiles against Minhyun’s neck, pulling him closer, laughing into him.

Minhyun yelps at the sudden movement and loss of kisses, but laughs too, if not for anything but the ticklish breaths that Seongwoo keeps making, head buried into his neck.

“You are so cute,” Seongwoo says.

Minhyun whines. “Stop. I’m serious. We, need to get up early.”

And because he’s more responsible than the other, he leans over to pick up the phone on the nightstand closest to them, _Seongwoo’s_ , and realizes it’s nearing three a.m.

He frowns. “It really is late. We have to be up at eight.”

Seongwoo whines, but lets Minhyun roll off of his lap and instead next to him. Seongwoo turns his body and adjusts to stare at Minhyun as the latter awkwardly moves next to him, trying to find a lying position. It’s then that he notices the faint red blush on Minhyun’s cheeks, the nervousness, the shifting around like he wants to say something.

It dawns on Seongwoo then — why Minhyun is so fidgety.

He giggles, so happily, as he reaches forward to wrap his arms around Minhyun’s waist and pull him closer, into his chest. Minhyun makes a noise of surprise, a little squeak, before he relaxes in Seongwoo’s arms, Seongwoo’s breathy laugh buried into Minhyun’s neck.

“This is okay, right?” he asks, belatedly.

Minhyun nods, and his hair tickles against Seongwoo’s cheeks. “Of course.”

It feels weird, like this, having Minhyun in this way. Feels weird, but at the same time a feeling of calmness settles in Seongwoo’s chest, the ocean waves finally settling nicely onto the shore, a quiet beat.

Seongwoo closes his eyes then, feeling the warmth of Minhyun’s skin against his, blending together as if they’re almost one.

“Goodnight,” Minhyun mumbles out, and Seongwoo barely catches it before he drifts off to sleep.

 

✢

 

Sungwoon is rushing around panicked, as the guests start to settle into their seats, and Seongwoo does his best to try to calm him down.

“Is Daniel up there? He’s up there already, right?” Sungwoon asks, voice high-pitched and whiny.

Seongwoo peeks his head out from behind a rose bush to look at the man in question, standing and laughing with the officiant as most of their guests have already settle into their seats, talking amongst themselves or on their phones.

“Yep,” Seongwoo pops the p. “Still there from the last time you asked me, about—“ he checks his watch. “Forty-five seconds ago. Though, I’m not sure for how much longer, if you keep him waiting like this.”

Sungwoon is pacing next to him, but stops temporarily to pinch Seongwoo’s arm. He yelps.

“No teasing, it’s my wedding day!”

“Sungwoon-hyung,” Seongwoo sighs. “Yes, he is still there. Almost everyone has sat down. Yes, the flower petals on the floor still look fresh. Your little cousin has not lost your guys’ rings and we are all just waiting for _you,_ hyung.”

“I know, I _know,_ I’m just,” Sungwoon stops pacing. Frowns. “I’m nervous.”

“I thought this was supposed to be the easiest day of your life?”

“It is! It’s just,” Sungwoon stops and shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. I’m just. I’m nervous because I’m so excited, you know? I can’t believe I”m finally getting to do this. I feel so lucky.”

Seongwoo grins. He thinks he knows how he feels. “I understand. But, hyung. If you’re so excited, you’re going to have to actually go out there, and do it, yeah?”

Sungwoon nods, fiddling with the cuffs on his wrist. “I just. Ihave to— I have to use the restroom first. I drank too much iced tea, earlier. Habit. Need to pee now before this show is on the road.”

“Okay, but if you take any more than five minutes I will come get you and drag you out to the aisle myself,” Seongwoo warns. “It will be embarrassing for all of us. Mainly you. But I’ll be embarrassed, too. So don’t do that. Hurry on back, okay?”

Sungwoon laughs. 

“Thank you for the encouragement, Seongwoo. I will be right back,” he says, before he’s rushing back inside the house quickly.

Seongwoo sighs, shaking his head. Who knew it would be Sungwoon who got nervous out of the two? He was always so straightforward and strong, never liking to show any vulnerability. He looks around, checking that everything is in place, if not to ease Sungwoon’s mind one last time.

 

“Hiya,” a voice sounds from behind him, and he turns around, already with a grin adorning his face as he recognizes the voice.

“Baby,” he says, and it feels like a whole new word on his tongue, knowing he means it. So much this time.

Minhyun grins at the pet name. 

“Just checking in to see if everything’s okay. Everyone’s getting kind of antsy back there,” he juts a thumb to point behind him, where all the guests sit.

Seongwoo shakes his head. “Sungwoon got nervous. Went to go pee real quick.”

Minhyun raises his eyebrows. “Sungwoon? Nervous?“

“I think it’s more that he can’t believe this day has come, you know,” he shrugs. “He’s fine, though. Will be out in a moment.”

Minhyun nods. “That’s good. Are you okay?” He reaches out to squeeze Seongwoo’s hand. “ _You_ seem kind of nervous.”

“I’m fine. I just can’t help it, you know?” He shakes his body a bit, if not to get the jitters out. “This is all just so.. exciting.”

With the look on Minhyun’s face, he grins. “Don’t worry, _baby,_ I won’t be acting like this at our wedding. Promise you, boss.”

Minhyun’s smile drops from his face, and he looks away to stare at the roses next to them. He drops his hand from Seongwoo’s grip, and it leaves Seongwoo worried and puzzled that he’s said something wrong. 

“Minhyun?”

“Seongwoo,” Minhyun starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

His heart drops. It suddenly feels way too hot in his tux.

“What?”

“ _This,_ ” Minhyun says, and Seongwoo’s chest feels like a weight has been dropped on it. _This? Which this? The this where he’s fallen hopelessly in love with Minhyun? The this where they get m—_

“Get married, I mean,” he breathes out. “I just. Seongwoo. Baby.”

Minhyun finally meets Seongwoo’s eyes and it’s so soft, so bright. “I think I like you too much. Maybe even love you.”

The weight feels like its slowly disappearing into a cloud of dust. Air starts pumping its way back into Seongwoo’s heart.

“I feel for you so much,” Minhyun continues. “I don’t want to make you do this. Not for me. Not like this.”

“Mi—“

“We can still work it out, right?” Minhyun asks, and it seems a bit more like he’s convincing himself. “I go back to America for a year, will you wait for me?”

“If you wou—“

“I mean,” Minhyun says quickly. “If you don’t want to wait for me.” A breath. “That’s okay, too. I don’t want to ask you of something so big. But. But either way. I don’t want to make you do this. Get marri—“

“Minhyun, will you just let me talk?” Seongwoo bursts, and Minhyun stops in between his rambling, eyes wide, hands paused from running his fingers through his hair. 

“Hwang Minhyun,” Seongwoo breathes out. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass.”

Minhyun’s eyebrows shoot up, and his hands drop to his sides, but he doesn’t dare open his mouth.

“Always planning out everything for me,” Seongwoo continues. He wrinkles his nose. “These past three years always making the decisions that I had to follow. Then lo and behold, you make me fucking marry you without even consulting me first! Not even a fucking ring!”

“I—“ Minhyun interrupts, but Seongwoo shoots him a look and he immediately closes his mouth. 

“Then you just, just,” Seongwoo pulls at his bangs. “Just make me fucking fall in love with you when I don’t even plan on it because you just _had_ to actually be such a great fucking guy. And now! Now! More decisions without consulting me! Not marrying you? Going _back to America?”_

Seongwoo frowns, and Minhyun’s eyes scrunch together in confusion.

“I just. I just finally fucking have you. I finally have you like this,” Seongwoo sighs. “Don’t do this to me.”

“I just don’t want you to be marrying me because I’m making you,” Minhyun says quietly.

Seongwoo plucks a rose from the closest bush to them (he hopes Sungwoon doesn’t mind) and is careful to avoid the thorns by holding it in between two fingers. He holds it out to Minhyun who looks at him in surprise. 

“I don’t have a ring so this will have to do,” Seongwoo starts. “But Hwang Minhyun. You are one of the most, if not the most, infuriating people I have ever met. You are such an enigma, yet I feel like I know everything about you. You make me feel complete. And I don’t want to feel incomplete again so soon. So, _please,_ please stay here. Stay here and marry me. Marry me because I want to know how it feels like to have fights with you over what to put on the television and how incredibly bad you are at drawing. I want to eat burnt toast with you and celebrate Christmas with you and show you that you can have this love, this type of love. Marry me, Hwang Minhyun, because I would really like to fucking date you.”

Minhyun lets out a breathe. He nods.

 

✢

 

“Kang Daniel,” Sungwoon breathes out, and though he hasn’t said anything else, tears pool in Daniel’s eyes, grin overtaking his whole face. Sungwoon frowns. “Stop crying, or I’ll cry.”

Daniel snorts at that while the crowd in front of them laughs, and he looks up to try to dry the tears threatening to spill. He leans forward to hold Sungwoon’s hand.

“Kang Daniel,” Sungwoon tries again. “My Kang Daniel. This is the simplest thing I’ve ever had to do in my fucking life. You make me feel safe. And you make me feel loved. You make me feel happy. You make me feel like I can do anything in the world. As long as I have you by my side, I think I probably can. My person. You’re just my person, you know? I’ve known it ever since we met. Even before we were dating. And we were just friends. Do you remember? We met at that dingy old restaurant that only had two things on the menu? And we talked the whole night. I knew you were my person then.”

Daniel’s tears are really spilling out then, glistening against the sunlight, his hands clutching onto Sungwoon’s hand, heavy. Seongwoo can’t blame him — Sungwoon is rarely this expressive publicly over his love, one usually with more reservations. 

“I know you’ll be my person forever,” Sungwoon continues. “So more than anything. Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to have you as my person. I vow to not take you for granted. To stay with you throughout all our fights. To be half the person to you as you are to me. I don’t vow to love you, because that’s not something that I need to vow. Loving you to me is every bit a part of me as a anything else that is inherently me. Loving you is like another bone. It’s simply a part of me. So I don’t vow to love you. But just know that I do. I do, and I always will. Because loving you _is_ me, it’s everything that I am.”

Seongwoo thinks he would like a love like that. He turns towards the crowd, and sees Minhyun looking at him, in the third row, smiling. Minhyun looks different, in his tux. Not just that he looks even more dashing (he does) but he looks different now. He looks different in the way Seongwoo sees him. Softer. More lively. Seongwoo sees the love that has always been there.

Seongwoo thinks a love like that is not far off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fin!
> 
> first of all, i want to say:
> 
> thank you so much for reading up to here if you have. this is the longest fic i've ever written, and it's been a long journey.
> 
> i started writing this over 9 months ago, when onghwang was still alive, and wanna one still existed, and they were two people who kept me grounded.
> 
> they were the first ship that really meant so much to me, their friendship something that i always cherished, as an outside perspective. they were the first ship that i really wanted to write for -- the very first onghwang i wrote was one that was written when there were less than twenty fics in the tag. i've grown so much with onghwang in the past few years, and i think i have them to thank for the growth of my writing as well. 
> 
> this fic is my baby. not just because i was with this fic for 9 months, feeding it, and learning, and growing with it. but. because in a way, this is almost my goodbye fic to onghwang (a bit fitting, being my longest one, don't you think?). i'll always love this ship forever and ever, and i will always be hung up on onghwang like no other. but to be honest, i'm not sure if i will ever write for them again (i may or may not, who knows!) but as for now, i don't plan on putting out any other o/h wip anytime soon.
> 
>  _so,_ with that, i want to say: thank you for reading this. thank you for being my (maybe) last readers in the onghwang fandom. i've grown fond of you all, you guys and onghwang who have stayed with me throughout the past two years of my life. thank you for enjoying this fic. thank you for enjoying _any fic_ that i put out, if you've read them.
> 
> i love you so much. i'm kind of crying writing this. but. i really love you guys. and onghwang. and i miss you all so dearly.
> 
> thank you again for everything!
> 
> if you have read up to here, you can still find me:
> 
> [writing twt](https://twitter.com/dinuguans) ♡
> 
> [main twt](https://twitter.com/haecns)! ♡
> 
> my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/haecns) is here.


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